


Through the Years

by WickedlyAwesomeMe



Series: Hermes & Iris (Dramione Genderswap) [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Female Draco Malfoy, Genderswap, Male Hermione Granger, Rule 63, Time Skips, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:02:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 88,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23702797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedlyAwesomeMe/pseuds/WickedlyAwesomeMe
Summary: Hermes Granger fervently believed that Malfoy's sole purpose in life was to make his life a living hell.Dramione! Male!Hermione Granger/Female!Draco Malfoy.Companion piece to "Library Rendezvous".
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, male!Hermione Granger/female!Draco Malfoy
Series: Hermes & Iris (Dramione Genderswap) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1736614
Comments: 63
Kudos: 317





	1. First Year

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to get the hang of it, I suggest you read "Library Rendezvous" first before this fic. Enjoy!

_Hermione Granger = Hermes Granger_

_Draco Malfoy = Iris Malfoy_

_All other characters retain their gender_

* * *

Hermes Granger stared with wide eyes as the humongous scarlet Hogwarts Express greeted him when he passed through the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10.

Glancing behind him, there was slight disappointment in his heart when his parents were unable to pass through the barrier. Of course, as Muggles, they were barred from doing so. _Still_ , it would have been wonderful if they were to behold this lovely magic with him.

Disappointment was quickly replaced by excitement as a loud whistle from the train resounded in the whole platform, signaling its impending departure. Hermes quickly pulled his heavy trunk, murmuring apologies after hitting some stranger, before finally hauling his trunk into the train.

Loud chatters scattered throughout the train and he peeked at each small window, hoping to find an empty compartment.

Growing up as a Muggle, he wondered how it felt like to be introduced to magic at a very young age. His eyes couldn't help but to widen every time he spied nifty tricks done by older students. The wand inside his pocket tingled and with a rush of adrenaline, Hermes pocketed his hand and grasped his very own wooden wand – 10 ¾ inches long, vine wood, with a dragon hearstring core.

He had been itching to try using his wand all summer, but because of the International Statute of Secrecy prohibiting underage magic outside Hogwarts, he had no other choice but to read through his textbooks instead. Mr. Granger pointed out he was practically _inhaling_ all information and told him to enjoy his last few days of summer instead of reading his book. But how could he not? Magic was undoubtedly the most fascinating thing that had ever happened to him. Learning new things was practically his hobby, and so his parents finally left him alone to discover new knowledge for this world that had been nonexistent for him just a few months ago.

"Sorry, do you have company?" he asked, lifting his chin a little to show that he wasn't nervous at all. Inside the small compartment was a pretty blonde girl that, like him, only wore black robes. Definitely a first year.

"Go away," she said with a glower. "These seats are taken."

He frowned, glancing at the empty seats beside her. In fact, she was the only one inside the compartment. "There are no people inside," he said, already stubbornly dragging his trunk inside.

The girl then suddenly stood on her fullest height and snootily stared him down. Hermes' frown deepened, noting that she was a few inches taller than him.

"I said _go away_ ," she grounded out once more.

Hermes, not really wanting to make enemies on his very first day, rolled his eyes and finally pulled his trunk outside. The girl snapped it shut with a resounding thud, prompting him to slightly jerk in surprise.

"Git," he murmured under his breath and moodily continued his search for an empty compartment.

If people in this school were like that girl in that compartment, then he wasn't really looking forward on starting in Hogwarts after all.

Back in his previous muggle school, he didn't really have any friends. His classmates thought he was weird, nose always buried behind books during recess when everybody else was outside and playing with swings and slides and seesaws. When Hermes asked his mother one time why no one wanted to read books with him, because books definitely held more adventure than anything he had ever seen in real life, Mrs. Granger only smiled at him and told him he was special. _And_ he should at least try to take the first step and ask them if they wanted to be his friends. That maybe he should set aside his book first and try to push a classmate on the swing or offer to be the other half on the seesaw.

And he tried, _bless him_ , he really, really tried because he wanted friends too. But there were times when something strange would happen – pushing his classmates a little too high with a strange wind that would knock them out of their seats or keeping his classmate stuck mid-air on the seesaw, unable to bring him down no matter what they did.

By then, nobody wanted to be his friend anymore because someone was always bound to get hurt. Hence, Hermes Granger retreated back to his books. At least, with his books, no one was judging him. No one was getting hurt.

That was really okay for him.

Thus, when he turned eleven and a strange letter from a strange school arrived at their house, all the weird things that was happening around him finally made _sense_. Magic made sense. Finally, there was a school with kids like him and then perhaps, he could finally make friends.

This was in his mindset for the whole summer, learning plenty about the Wizarding World to impress the new students that he would meet and maybe meet someone that would like to be his friend.

Remembering about the rude girl a while ago, Hermes scowled and sulkily continued his hunt for an empty compartment. Of course he should have expected he would botch up that plan on his first day.

When he chanced a glance at another compartment, he saw students laughing raucously at a boy on all fours with tears streaming down his eyes, seemingly searching for something.

He pushed the compartment door open without any hesitation, ignoring his trepidation when all eyes settled on him.

"Hello," he said, eyes intently glued on the crying boy. "What's wrong?"

The boy, also in his first year judging from his robes, noisily sniffed and haphazardly wiped his face with the back of his hand. "M-my pet toad," he cried. "Trevor. I can't… I can't find him." More fat tears rolled down from his plump cheeks, despondently crawling out of the compartment he was previously in. "Gran was right. I-I can't take care of anything."

"I'll help you find him," he volunteered immediately. The poor boy looked at him with wide, surprised eyes. "I'm Hermes Granger, by the way."

The other boy eyed his outstretched hand before meekly grasping it and giving it a slight shake. "N-Neville Longbottom," he said.

"Neville," he echoed with a smile. "Well, I think it is best if you start looking at that side, while I start to look at this side. We can find him immediately with that plan."

Neville tearfully looked at him and gave him a shaky smile. "O-okay," he stuttered, then bounded to where Hermes told him to go.

Hermes dragged his trunk behind him and smiled at the trolley lady that passed by him. His stomach grumbled, remembering he hadn't had breakfast that morning due to excitement, but decided he would look for Neville's pet toad first.

He quickly walked towards the compartment where the trolley lady had been, its door already opened. Two boys already occupied the compartment – a redheaded boy with weird dirt on his nose, and a raven-haired boy wearing too baggy clothes and thick glasses that had a tape wrapped around its middle.

"Has anyone seen a toad?" he asked, eyes already searching throughout the compartment for any telltale sign of said pet. "A boy named Neville has lost one." He spied the rat sitting on the readhead's lap and frowned. First a pet toad, now a pet _rat_. Wizards really had weird tastes.

The two boys shared a look then looked back at him, shaking their heads.

Hermes sighed in disappointment. This would be a long search.

* * *

"Don't slouch, Iris."

"Yes, Father."

"And for Merlin's sake, stop gaping. That is very unbecoming."

"Yes, Father."

"Are you even listening to me? _Look_ at me when I'm talking to you, Iris."

Eleven-year-old Iris Malfoy expelled a deep sigh, straightened her back, and schooled all of her emotions before looking directly at the eyes of formidable Lucius Malfoy. "Yes, Father," she mechanically answered once more, heart twinging a little in pain when he merely looked down at her disapprovingly and looked away.

Sighing softly to herself once more, she looked back at the Hogwarts Express, this time with concealed excitement and awe because, as what her father had graciously pointed a while ago, _gaping_ was very unbecoming of a Malfoy.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and stiffened, Narcissa Malfoy's warm, gentle hand jolting her in surprise, before she quickly shrugged it off and walked hastily towards the train. Anything short of being dignified was also unbecoming of a Malfoy. Iris learned at a very young age that showing affection in public already fell on that category.

After a stiff goodbye and a promise from Lucius that she would be punished if she did not do well in her studies, a moody Iris Malfoy stomped throughout the corridors of the train. She ripped the first compartment door open and glared at the excited first years giggling to themselves, already exchanging stories about their summer. Their conversation immediately died down upon seeing her.

"Get out," she snapped. When one girl with blonde, curly hair scowled and stood up from her seat, Iris pierced her with a hard glare. " _Now_."

It gave her the satisfaction when she flinched, scowl still in place. She looked at her other friends and gestured them out, followed by a loud hmph when they passed by Iris.

Finally alone, Iris dumped her trunk on the floor and clambered on one of the seats, moodily staring outside the train window. Pansy and the others would be here soon and she hoped they would arrive quickly, if only to distract her from the words her father had drilled into her mind the night before.

" _Malfoys are supposed to be the best in everything,"_ he sternly said with eyes that seemed to perpetually convey his disappointment at her. _"Best in studies, best in Quidditch, best in_ everything _."_ He gestured for her to step closer. _"You are expected to only surround yourself with people you deem worthy of your presence, people whose alliance with you would be advantageous in the future. Remember these, Iris. Remember that you are always a Malfoy no matter what."_

His words echoed in her mind even until she went to bed that night, the pressure behind those words unable to put her to sleep.

She was perhaps five-years-old when she finally understood what it meant to be a Malfoy. She always wondered why she only had to play with Crabbe and Goyle when they were _boring and stupid_. She always wondered why she could not go to Diagon Alley just to eat ice cream with her family. She always wondered why she could not slouch, why she could not ditch a Malfoy party, why she had to memorize basic Pureblood etiquette, why she could not show any weakness.

She always wondered why her father was very disappointed in everything she did.

It was when she was five, after throwing a terrible tantrum during a ball thrown by the Parkinsons, when her father locked her in her room and told her that she was a Malfoy, that she was _power_ , and everybody else should be beneath her. It was also during that time he clearly told her he wished she was a boy instead, because the Malfoy name effectively ended with her.

Her parents tried for another child, hoping for a boy, but consequently failed. Iris' conception was a delightful surprise, after all, so Lucius had given up and constantly placed pressure on Iris' shoulders just so she would be the perfect little Pureblood Malfoy.

And it was tiring, so _tiring_ , and she just wanted to make her father proud, always thinking that she had done something wrong because her father never seemed proud of her.

Hogwarts therefore was an exciting prospect for Iris because at least here she wouldn't be under the constant scrutiny of Lucius Malfoy. That did not mean she could afford to make any mistakes, because Lucius still had eyes in Hogwarts, and would undoubtedly report her every move to her father.

She slouched and scowled. "I can slouch anytime I want, _Father_ ," she murmured grumpily at her reflection on the window.

Her compartment door opened and she was about to rant at Pansy for being late, but when a frumpy-looking boy, with impossibly curly, brown hair on top of his head, stood outside, she scowled.

"Sorry, do you have company?" he confidently asked.

"Go away," she instantly said with a glare. "These seats are taken."

"There are no people inside," he pointed out with a frown. The boy was already dragging his trunk inside and something in Iris' snapped. She immediately jumped down from her seat and stood at her fullest height.

"I said _go away_ ," she snapped, annoyed that he did not even flinch with her voice. Pansy and the others knew never to mess with her when she was in one of her moods.

The boy rolled his eyes but finally dragged his trunk away. She angrily snapped her compartment door shut once he was gone and huffily sat back on her seat. Crossing her arms across her chest, she moodily stared out of her window and waited for her so-called friends to arrive.

* * *

"It's true then. What they're saying on the train."

Hermes eyes widened, snapping out from his momentary daze after seeing Hogwarts in all its glory He recognized the snooty voice of the girl that had been unbearably rude in the train a while ago.

"Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts."

Gasps resounded around the first years as Harry stiffened beside him. Hermes shot the poor boy a glance, knowing that he was uncomfortable being pushed into the limelight.

Hermes then glared at the blonde witch, watching as she daintily slid down from the banister she was sitting on, and smirked prettily at Harry. "This is Crabbe, and this is Goyle," she said, gesturing at the two burly boys that did not look eleven at all.

She sashayed towards Harry, her hair blonde hair billowing behind her, and finally stepped in front of The-Boy-Who-Lived. "And I'm Malfoy," she confidently greeted. " _Iris_ Malfoy."

From beside Harry, Ron groaned. Hermes shot the redhead a glance, wondering if he knew the rude girl.

Iris Malfoy shot a glare at Ron then looked at him from head to toe. Said boy glowered at her gaze, the tips of his ears steadily turning pink. "Red hair, hand-me-down clothes," she spat, a cruel smirk slowly growing on her face. "Definitely a stupid Weasley. Aren't you like the twelfth one to come to Hogwarts from that humongous family of yours?"

"I'm the sixth child," he petulantly muttered, gazing at his shoes in embarrassment.

Malfoy then looked back at Harry, proud smirk still marring her pretty face. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter," she continued. "You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort." She gestured herself, her proud smirk growing. "I can help you there."

She then held out her hand, waiting for Harry to shake it but, to Hermes' amusement, Harry merely stared at her proffered hand. "I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," he coolly replied.

Malfoy gaped for a while, before her face twisted into an ugly sneer. Harry had nonchalantly walked away from her now, a beaming Ron immediately following his lead.

Hermes couldn't keep the amused smile growing on his face. He admittedly thought the redhead and the raven-haired boy he met back at the Hogwarts Express were total buffoons; Ron ate too much candy that would make his parents horrified and Harry laughed at all the atrocious things Ron did. Hermes was actually hoping for friends he could share books with, people he could study with… not these _boys_. They definitely didn't like him, Ron most especially.

But Hermes' couldn't help but think they were amusing. Ron's easy-going nature bringing out Harry from his shell of shyness entertained him throughout the train ride.

It would really be nice if they could be friends.

"What the hell are you smiling at?" Iris Malfoy snapped, this time directing her glare at him.

Said smile fell from his face, his eyebrows shooting up to his forehead. Before he could snap back at her, Professor McGonagall was already herding them inside the Great Hall.

All thoughts about Iris Malfoy and her atrocious behavior left him completely as he beheld the Great Hall, the Sorting Hat sitting on a stool at the very front.

* * *

Hermes Granger was Sorted in Gryffindor.

The Sorting Hat actually had a hard time deciding where to put him. It suggested Ravenclaw, and Hermes agreed enthusiastically. He had read _Hogwarts: A History_ twice during his break and thought Ravenclaw, the House of the Intelligent, would be the place where he belonged. The friends he longed for, exchanging books and studying in libraries, would most likely be in the Ravenclaw House.

" _Oh, but that bravery and loyalty of yours,"_ the Sorting Hat interjected. _"Such noble traits. I think you are much better Sorted in… GRYFFINDOR!"_

There was a part of him that was disappointed with the Hat's decision as he slid off the stool and bounded towards the Gryffindor table. The Sorting Hat's words still rang in his mind, wondering how he was brave and loyal when all the adventures he underwent were purely through imagination, remembering all the battles he had led and the battles he had won from all the fantasy books neatly placed in his bookshelf.

Such thoughts left him when Harry Potter soon joined the Gryffindor House and sat across him. Harry offered Hermes a weak smile.

Ron Weasley slid on the bench beside Harry soon after, giving him a clap on the back. When he saw that Hermes was also in the Gryffindor House, he made a face and not-so-subtly whispered to Harry that he really thought the swot would better be suited in Ravenclaw.

Hermes Granger sighed, completely conquering with the redhead this time.

* * *

Iris Malfoy was Sorted in Slytherin.

The Sorting Hat had barely touched the crown of her head when it already blurted out her House, which she didn't mind, really. Her nervousness prior to the Sorting reached up to the tips of her fingers as she mentally chanted _'Slytherin'_ over and over again if it could help.

The relief that washed over her form was immense, the proud smirk she had practiced countless of times in front of the mirror flawlessly slipping on her face. She slipped down from the stool and walked towards the Slytherin table, flipping her hair away from her face.

As she sat down beside Crabbe and Goyle, she couldn't help but imagine the proud smirk on her father's face.

At least, after being Sorted to Slytherin, there was one less thing her father could be disappointed about.

* * *

There were moments when Hermes wished it wasn't Harry and Ron who saved him from that stupid troll.

One prime example of that moment was _right now_. Harry and Ron were furiously whispering between themselves after they faced-off that huge, three-headed dog that was on the third floor. Professor Dumbledore specifically told them it was off limits to students but _of course_ , Harry thought it was brilliant to explore it when the staircases led them to that place. Ron practically worshipped everything that Harry walked on and immediately followed, an excited smile on his face.

Hermes, the only sane in this trio, knew he had no choice but to follow the Two Idiots, if only to keep them alive. After all, if it weren't for Harry and Ron, he would have been troll meat by now.

"Why is there a bloody dog in that room?" Ron asked, perhaps for the umpteenth time, and looked at Harry as if he knew all the answers in the world.

But Harry merely shook his head, a deep frown on his face. "I have no idea," he said. Then, glancing at Ron, he said, "I thought Hogwarts was one of the safest places in the Wizarding World? I don't think that monstrous dog can be considered as _safe_."

"There's a reason why Dumbledore said that corridor was off limits," Hermes snapped, glowering at the two. "We could have been killed."

"But we're still alive," Ron said with a roll of his eyes. "Honestly, Hermes, stop being so overdramatic. You sound like my little sister sometimes."

Hermes sighed and wanted to smack his forehead. They almost _died_ and these two buffoons thought he was being overdramatic.

"It's obviously guarding something," he murmured after they clambered inside the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Guarding something?" Ron echoed. "How did you even know?"

"While you two oafs were too busy screaming your heads off, I saw a trap door underneath the dog," Hermes quickly explained. "Maybe you should have observed your surroundings more, Ronald."

Ron glowered. "I was a bit preoccupied with its heads!" he exclaimed in return.

Hermes rolled his eyes and glared at Harry, who was silently snickering beside Ron. He immediately clammed up and looked away from Hermes' glare.

"It was standing on a trap door, which means its guarding something," he continued with a tired sigh. "Of course it is _guarding_ something."

"Know-it-all," Ron murmured under his breath.

"Do you reckon we should find out what it's guarding then?" Harry finally piped in, cutting through their banter.

"NO!" Hermes asked, horrified with his suggestion. They were finally in front of the boy's dormitory and Hermes halted in his steps, sternly looking at his two new friends. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed before either of you come up with a clever idea that could get us killed… or worse, _expelled_."

Harry blinked at him in surprise while Ron groaned. "He really needs to sort out his priorities," he murmured as Hermes crossed the threshold and slammed the door against their faces.

He quickly walked towards his bed, noting that Neville, Seamus, and Dean were all soundly asleep. Hermes longingly looked at Neville's snoring form, wondering if it would have been better if he sat down with him during the train ride. Now that he, Harry, and Ron took down a troll together, he doubted he'd be able to get rid of those two anytime soon.

As he slipped into his bed and closed his curtains, he heard the bedroom door open. Harry and Ron noisily clambered inside.

" _Or worse, expelled_ ," Ron mockingly whispered in the dark while Harry snickered and shushed him for being noisy.

Hermes rolled his eyes and faced away from the door.

As the other two boys settled on their bed, Hermes found himself unable to sleep. After such a tiring situation, he honestly thought he would be dead beat by now.

But no, _oh no_ , his fingers tingled with an energy he hadn't experienced before.

' _Adrenaline,'_ he thought, eyes widening a bit.

Bloody hell, he had so much fun today.

Befriending Harry Potter and Ron Weasley was such a terrible idea.

* * *

He really couldn't understand Iris Malfoy at all.

True, she was cute and pretty and the way her hair shined every time she passed by them blinded him sometimes. But then, bloody witch would open her mouth and say mean, hateful things that would mar whatever pretty features she had. It seemed she was extra vicious to Harry now, and by extension to him and Ron since they were steadily becoming his closest friends.

As he watched her bickering with Harry during their flying lessons, taunting him with Neville's Remembrall, he wondered how her Slytherin cronies could stand being with the spiteful witch. Said cronies were busy snickering between themselves, seemingly amused that their Slytherin princess was having fun hurtling insults at the Boy-Who-Lived. And Neville, _poor Neville_ , he just wanted his Remembrall back.

"Give it a rest, Malfoy," Hermes grumbled.

The blonde's impossibly silver eyes landed on him, a dark sneer on her face. "Shut up, Granger," she said.

He ignored her and looked at Harry instead. "She's not worth it, Harry," he warned, seeing the angry glint in his friend's green eyes.

Iris snorted, summoned her broomstick, and rode on it. She deftly kicked off the ground and hovered a few inches above the ground. "If you want to get it back," Iris drawled, "you have to catch it first, _Potter_."

She steadily rose higher, higher than the ground Hermes dared to go, and zoomed far away. Before he could grab onto Harry's sleeve, he was already on his broom and racing towards the blonde.

"LET'S GO HARRY!" Ron hollered, cupping his mouth with his hands. The other Gryffindors cheered, while Hermes grew nauseous, watching his friend zooming through the sky at such a dangerous height. He was never a fan of heights and it terrified him to pieces when he discovered they had mandatory flying lessons for first years. He was bloody well sure that if he was going to fail at something, flying lessons would undoubtedly be it.

"I think I'm going to get sick," Hermes murmured under his breath.

Iris then did a mighty throw, laughing madly as Harry zoomed past her to catch the Remembrall. Hermes may or may not have squeaked, heart racing a bit, and he had to clench his fists so as not the grab onto Ron in fright. It didn't help at all when Harry made weird stunts mid-air, ridiculously having fun, before finally catching the Remembrall as if he won a bloody game.

The-Boy-Who-Lived pumped his fist in the air, Remembrall safely clutched in his hand. Hermes released a breath he didn't realize he was holding, waiting until Harry's feet was finally safely on the ground. Together with his cheering classmates, Hermes ran toward Harry and smacked him at the back of his head.

"What the hell was that for, Hermes?" Harry whined.

Hermes, in spite of himself, shook his head. Being Harry Potter's friend was starting to be bad for his health.

His eyes briefly landed on Iris, who caught his gaze and harrumphed away, her long, blonde hair swaying against her back.

"Mr. Potter."

The raucous died down immediately as soon as Professor McGonagall broke through the group. Her expression was indecipherable, but judging from what had transpired a while ago, Hermes guessed Harry had done something wrong.

He found it totally unfair when only Harry was called by Professor McGonagall when Iris Malfoy instigated everything.

"Prof – " he started, but Iris' grip on his arm stopped him from speaking up on behalf of his best friend.

"Don't even think about it, Granger," she sneered. Hermes glanced down at the hand around his arm and frowned. Iris followed his line of vision and made a face, none-too-gently throwing his arm away and quickly going over to her friends.

"Bloody Malfoy," Ron grumbled, sidling up beside Hermes as they made their way back to the broom shed. "How can someone so hateful have a… a _face_ like that?"

"What?" Hermes asked, eyebrows knitted together.

Ron's eyes widened, realizing what he had said, and proceeded to turn into a terrible shade of red that clashed with his red hair. "Nothing," he murmured under his breath.

Later that day, when Harry finally came back, Hermes and Ron immediately interrogated him about McGonagall's punishment.

Turned out he wasn't punished at all, that Professor McGonagall was wholly impressed with Harry's flying skills and suggested to Oliver Wood, the current Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, to make Harry the Seeker for their team.

"But, first years aren't allowed to play Quidditch!" Ron sputtered out, his face a mixture of disbelief, amazement, and envy. Hermes wasn't really sure which emotion in him dominated. "And… with no tryouts at that!"

Hermes had come across Quidditch a few times in his beloved books. Since he wasn't really a fan of said sport, or any sport for that matter, he didn't really know anything about it. But Ron was right; first years were banned from joining Quidditch unless they completed their flying lessons with Madame Hooch.

Harry sheepishly shrugged and ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. "McGonagall said my father used to play Quidditch back when he was a student," he said, absentmindedly pushing his slipping glasses up to the bridge of his nose. "He was a Chaser, I think. She said she didn't doubt I might have inherited his skills."

"Then you would be the youngest Seeker ever," Ron said, clearly more at awe right now. "Blimey, mate, that's brilliant! But, what broom will you use? In case you haven't noticed, the brooms we used during practice weren't exactly Quidditch-friendly."

"McGonagall said I shouldn't worry about it," Harry said, shrugging his shoulders again.

Ron proceeded to describe in detail all the latest models of broomsticks right now, gushing particularly excitedly when he started to explain the wicked features of Nimbus 2000.

Hermes tuned them out and flipped through his Potions book. It seemed like even Professor McGonagall couldn't help having her own favorites. He secretly glanced at Harry and sighed. Being the The-Boy-Who-Lived seriously had its own perks.

* * *

"Think you're so high and mighty now that you've caught your first snitch, huh, Potter?"

Iris, with barely concealed anger, stomped closer to Harry as soon as he, together with his two buffoons he called best friends, laughingly trudged across the Quidditch Pitch to go back to their common room to celebrate their victory.

The stupid trio stopped in their tracks and simultaneously glared at her. Iris took comfort that Crabbe and Goyle, who both were magnificently burlier than her other gangly classmates, were flanking her side. She didn't want to show to these gits that their identical glares made her nervous.

"Last time I checked, _Malfoy_ , Gryffindor bloody won, so of course we're celebrating," Potter snapped back in return.

Her hands curled into tight fists, feeling suddenly irrationally angry. She knew she had a fantastic temper; Pansy once pointed out she hated playing with her the most because when she got angry, she'd destroy _everything_. But not this kind of angry… this emotion was raw and hateful and evil and she hated all of it. She hated Potter and his stupid friends and their stupid laughs and their stupid jokes. _She_ was supposed to be the one who was happiest always, _always_ , because she was a Malfoy and she had everything and she was a Pureblood.

Sometimes, when she saw the Golden Trio fooling around, she couldn't help but feel that they were mocking her – the girl who botched up her very first attempt to make a frie – _no_ , an acquaintance. Her current acquaintances only became her friends because they were Purebloods and her father approved of them. She just wanted to write home and tell her father that she had befriended Harry Potter, that The-Boy-Who-Lived thought she was the best thing that had ever happened in Hogwarts, and her father would be so proud of her. But then, stupid Weasley had to ruin everything and now she hated them all.

And Granger! How could a mudblood with ridiculous hair and frumpy clothes become best friends with the hero of the Wizarding World? Granger was _ordinary_ , he had no connections whatsoever and the only thing he could boast of was that stupid brain of his. So what if he answered all the questions in their classes? So what if he could get a spell after just a few tries? So what if he was steadily becoming the reason why Gryffindor was neck-to-neck against Slytherin for the House Cup due to accumulating ridiculous amount of points?

Iris could do _all of it_. She could bloody well beat Granger in her studies if she tried extra harder.

Why couldn't Potter see that?

"No witty comeback, Malfoy?" Granger asked, quirking an eyebrow as an amused smile grew on his face.

She shook with anger and glared at the boys. "Shut up, Granger," she snarled, turned around and stomped back to the castle, Crabbe and Goyle hastily catching up with her.

"Girls are so bloody mental," she heard Weasley say, prompting the others to snicker under their breaths. "Ginny throws monumental tantrums over the most stupidest things."

"Just 'stupidest'," Granger corrected.

"What?"

"Never mind, Ronald."

"Race you to the Gryffindor Common Room, wankers!" Potter then exclaimed while laughing.

Iris halted in her steps, hands still curled into her fists at her side. Crabbe and Goyle almost collided against her but she calmly moved aside, letting the buffoons fall on top of each other on the ground.

She quickly peeked back, heart clenching at the sight of the Golden Trio laughing loudly and racing through the Quidditch Pitch.

Maybe she shouldn't have been quick in insulting Weasley at that moment. Weasley actually make stupidly funny jokes that almost took her an enormous effort not to laugh. Maybe she shouldn't comment too much about Granger's ridiculous hair, or his blood status, or his general swottiness. Granger always got the highest marks in their essays and it took all of her willpower to stop herself from asking him what sources she could use. Her essays could use some improvement, and then her father would be prouder.

Realizing where her thoughts were bringing her, she angrily pushed those thoughts away and scowled. They were exactly the kind of people her father warned her not to associate herself with.

She stiffened when Potter and Granger loudly laughed at another stupid comment Weasley made.

Potter should have accepted her friendship when she had graciously offered it to him.

They could have loads of fun, too.

* * *

Hermes, although delighted just like his other Housemates, couldn't help but feel that the reason why they won the House Cup this school year was bloody _ridiculous_. He couldn't help but roll his eyes at Dumbledore, who looked clearly pleased with the awards the Golden Trio and Neville suddenly gained, his twinkling eyes latched onto Harry Potter.

 _Of course_ , even their bloody Headmaster had his own favorite.

"Damn it, Harry," Hermes said, giving him a disbelieving smile.

"What?" Harry asked, glancing at him with a curious look in his eyes.

Hermes' smile widened and shook his head. _Bloody hell_ , being best friends with The-Boy-Who-Lived really had wonderful perks. His eyes strayed on the scar on Harry's cheeks, and visions of their past adventures back at the third corridor came crashing back into him.

Harry didn't necessarily tell him and Ron everything. They were separated from Harry when Ron got injured after playing that life-size Wizard Chess and Harry insisted for Hermes to stay behind and look after him. Hermes would have protested more, because stupid Harry was about to face an unknown enemy, who was possibly evil. But Harry was stubborn, and left them to meet the enemy alone.

Turned out that Quirrell all along was the one constantly putting Harry's life in danger, not _Snape_. It was surprising, because Snape seemed the eviler between the two. Who knew their bumbling Professor who smelled of garlic would house Voldemort's soul?

Voldemort. That name still sent shivers down his spine. He knew about him all right; history books detailed the atrocious things he had done when he was still alive. The way Ron's face paled when Harry revealed the antagonist to their little adventure already spoke volumes of how notorious this Voldemort was.

At least, for now said soul was vanquished. Voldemort was gone once more.

Hermes frowned and proceeded to pile some food on his plate. Somehow, there was a niggling part in his brain that told him this wouldn't be their last dangerous adventure. He shot a quick look at Harry's thunderbolt shaped scar and shivered.

"I'm going to go back first," he said, suddenly not having any appetite anymore.

"You barely touched your plate!" Ron exclaimed in between eager bites of his fried chicken and beef. Hermes gave him a disgusted look he chose not to notice.

"I still have some packing to do," he said, sliding out of the bench. He clapped Harry's back and strolled out of the Great Hall, already mentally deciding how to order his trunk so that all of his things would fit neatly.

As he reached the grand staircases, he froze. His eyes landed on an embarrassed Iris Malfoy, halfway to a standing position, and frowned.

"Were you just sitting down on these steps, Malfoy?" he asked, curious at her red-rimmed eyes and slightly disheveled appearance. Iris always looked immaculate; seeing her frazzled was a surprising thing to behold.

"What's it to you, Granger?" she spat, immediately turning away from him and swiping at her eyes.

He lifted an eyebrow, amused at her pathetic attempt to hide the fact that she had been crying a while ago.

When she turned back, the telltale signs of crying were gone. Instead, her face was once again schooled into that cool arrogance that made her look like a porcelain doll. Slightly smiling to himself, if she stopped hurling nasty comments, she could really look pretty.

"What the hell are you smiling at?"

Hermes did not bother hiding his smile. Of course she had to open her mouth and start snarling insults. He almost stopped himself from rolling his eyes, wondering why he even thought her pretty when her behavior was atrocious.

"Is something wrong, Malfoy?" he asked.

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What's it to you?" she slowly drawled.

He realized what he had just said and mentally smacked his mouth. Serves him right for even momentarily wondering if Malfoy was okay.

"You were obviously crying," he hastily said. "So I assumed that something is wrong."

He braced himself for Iris to snap and breathe fire. Among his peers, they started calling her 'The Dragon' behind her back. He knew name-calling was mean; he had been the receiving end of such kind of bullying before after all. But such a ferocious beast fitted her perfectly, her mouth almost breathing fire every time she threw a scathing remark.

To his surprise, Iris slowly closed the distance between them until she was mere inches away from him. He could already see that her grey eyes actually had some flecks of blue and there was this small mole under her left eyebrow.

"Do not assume anything about me again, Granger," she whispered menacingly. " _Ever_." Her features hardened as she gave him a very dark glare.

"Blimey, Malfoy, I was just trying to be nice," he murmured.

Iris snarled. "You know what, Granger?" she continued, almost half-shrieking. "Something is actually _wrong_." She pointed an accusatory finger at him. "You!"

"Me?" he asked, creasing his forehead in confusion.

"Yes, you!" she shrilly exclaimed. "I hate… I hate _you_. All of you. Because you never have to try. Because you always get the highest mark. Because you are always the bloody _best_." She was breathing heavily now and to his horror, there were angry tears pooling at the corner of her eyes. "You loved it there, huh, Granger? Being on top of everything. I bet you love being Harry Bloody Potter's best friend, too! Know-it-all, swotty Hermes Granger finally found a friend that would make him feel like he belonged?"

His hands curled into tight fists at his sides. "Watch your words, Malfoy," he warned with thinly-veiled anger in his voice.

"Ooh, did I hit a nerve, Granger?" she asked, a wicked smile stretched on her face that contrasted greatly with the tears in her eyes.

He pushed her away from him and toppled back, breathing heavily through his nostrils. Holy Merlin, he just wanted to become nice for once in his life and ask her what was wrong with her. Fighting with Iris Malfoy for the whole year was bloody tiring and he thought maybe he could cut her some slack; maybe growing up in stuffy, strict Pureblood households would inevitably corrupt the soul. But damn it all, he was done with her insults and of trying to at least see that there was something good in her.

"You don't know anything about me either, Malfoy," he snarled, the curls on his head becoming frizzier with anger.

She slowly wiped away her tears and stood to her fullest height. Then, a small smirk grew on her face. "Isn't it cute?" she bitingly continued. "Lonely Hermes Granger finally found a friend in Hogwarts." She flipped her hair over her shoulder and gave him a steely glance. "What if I told you you will always be second best in Harry Potter's list of best friends?"

He stiffened. He always knew that Harry favored Ron over him and he told himself countless times that it was _okay_. They were friends first. At least they were allowing him in their circle, dragging him in dangerous adventures even though he constantly reprimanded them for breaking numerous rules.

But to hear it from the Slytherin, her words twisted viciously, it had stung… _well_ , maybe there was a part of him that was bothered by it after all.

"I hate you, Malfoy," he said without skipping a beat.

Her eyes glinted dangerously. "The feeling is mutual, Granger." Then, she was stalking away, leaving him to glare openly at her back.

That night, plagued with depressing thoughts care of the blonde Slytherin, Hermes finally calmed himself down and wondered what had ever happened to Iris Malfoy to make her so… so _hateful_.


	2. Second Year

Rumor has it that Hermes Granger's hugs were miraculous.

It all started when Neville Longbottom spectacularly failed a Potions assignment and had a fifteen-minute lecture from Snape about the importance of having brains to become a successful wizard. Tears were already streaming down from his face as he quietly excused himself from Potions class and hadn't return even after the lesson had ended.

Hermes told his best friends Harry and Ron that he'd like to check up on Neville first before going to the Great Hall. When he returned, the despondent Gryffindor was trailing behind and Hermes had to force him to eat until Neville was at least smiling again.

For the next Potions assignment, Snape gave Neville another fifteen-minute lecture in the importance of honesty and integrity, much to the confusion of the whole class. Snape grumpily deducted ten points from Neville and slammed his homework on his table. Neville exclaimed a small squeak in surprise, and those who were near him peeked at his homework. He was then congratulated afterwards because he got an _'A'_ for his Potions essay.

Later that afternoon, Neville tearfully gave Hermes a hug in thanks. Hermes laughed and patted his head, telling him it was all him, really, and he merely guided him to the right track.

A few weeks after, a crying Lavender revealed that her pet rabbit was missing from home. Hermes, who was sitting beside her during lunch, wrapped his arms around her and patted her head. He assured her that he would soon be found, he was sure.

By dinner, Lavender was crying once more, this time because of happiness because her mother Owled from home, telling her that Binky the Rabbit was found hiding inside one of her drawers. She threw her arms around Hermes in thanks. Hermes would laugh, tell her he did not even do anything, but was glad Binky was found.

At the end of the month, Harry and Ron had a disastrous row in front of the whole student body, fists exchanged and was punished by detention and demerits.

They were ignoring each other for two days until Hermes, fed up with their stupid silent treatment, swung both of his arms around his best friends and forced them to face each other, threatening them that he wouldn't let go until they made up.

After stumbled apologies and awkward smiles, Harry and Ron grinned at each other and wrapped their arms around each other. Hermes wore a proud grin on his face, smacking both of them at the back of their necks because they were idiots and it seriously disrupted his studying when the two blokes weren't talking.

"Is it true Hermes Granger's hugs bring miracles?" inquisitive Colin Creevey asked Neville one time.

The older Gryffindor looked down at him and frowned. "What?" he asked. He scratched the back of his neck, looked thoughtful for a while, "I'm not really sure but… but he does give really warm hugs."

Lavender laughed openly in front of a disgruntled Colin Creevey when he asked her this time. "That's rubbish," she said, shaking her head as she smiled at the oblivious Hermes Granger. "But, if you must know, his big hugs make you all warm and tingly."

Colin still was unsatisfied with their answers but felt nervous about interrogating The-Boy-Who-Lived himself. Hence, he believed the next best thing was to ask the subject of the rumor himself.

"Is it true your hugs bring miracles?" he blurted, finally cornering the second year on one of the overstuffed couches in the Gryffindor Common Room.

Hermes slowly looked up from his parchment and frowned. "What?" he asked. When the first year repeated his question, his eyebrows flew behind his curly fringes. "Where did you even get that idea?"

Colin shrugged. "People are talking about it," he said. "I got curious."

The older wizard snorted and placed his assignment aside. "First of all, that is ridiculous," he said, rolling his eyes. "Second of all, there is no such thing as miracles… hmm, well _maybe_ there is, but I've yet to witness one." He smiled at the younger first year. "Last of all, maybe you want to try it out for yourself?"

He opened his arms and beckoned him closer. Admittedly, Colin was curious. It was weird, however, that said Gryffindor freely gave something affectionate to other people. He had been observing the Golden Trio for a while now, especially because he had always been a fan of Harry Potter.

"Why do you like giving hugs?" he blurted out before he could stop himself.

"Err," Hermes said, absentmindedly scratching his chin, "my mother used to tell me hugs can soothe the soul or something like that. I found out long before that when someone doesn't really feel well, a hug could remedy that so…"

He wiggled his arms once more and Colin finally relented. Instantly, warmth spread through his body and he sighed, the pain of going away from home, of venturing at Hogwarts that was terrifying and amazing at the same time, seemed to ease.

"Feeling better already, Colin?" he asked, slightly amused.

"Loads," he confessed, reluctantly pulling away from Hermes' arms. "Thanks."

He waved his hand dismissively and went back to his homework.

By then, the ridiculous rumor immediately fizzled as the students of Hogwarts got swamped with homework and the recent strange activities in Hogwarts occupied their minds. Colin Creevey, however, couldn't help but spread around that Hermes Granger gave the best hugs, comically calling it Granger's Hug of Warmth.

* * *

Hermes expelled a deep sigh, glaring at Harry across the table. A few days ago, a strange writing appeared on a wall, declaring that this 'Chamber of Secrets' had been opened and warned the enemies of an 'heir'. Such writings could normally be deemed as a prank by the professors, but upon seeing a petrified Mrs. Norris underneath it was alarming.

The whole school was abuzz with strange fascination of the threat written with red paint. Numerous speculations about the Chamber of Secrets were exchanged, some even trying to identify who the enemies were and who was the heir.

Harry, who had the unfortunate timing of being the only student at the crime scene when the professors found out, was constantly speculated as the 'heir'. Determined to prove everybody wrong, he had dragged his best friends in the library to try to research about the Chamber of Secrets.

True, it thrilled Hermes that at least his friends were spending time with him in the library, but for them to do anything _besides_ studying wasn't exactly what he had in mind.

"Have you found anything?" Harry asked, raising his eyes to look at him.

Hermes shook his head. "I've skimmed through my tenth book but none of the books mentioned anything about the Chamber of Secrets," he answered back with a frustrated frown. "It was briefly mentioned in _'Hogwarts: A History'_ but it was merely chalked up as a myth, Harry." He expelled a deep sigh and placed his chin on top of his palm. "Maybe it is a _myth_."

Harry mirrored his frown and absentmindedly scrubbed his scar.

Worried, Hermes sat up straighter. "Is it hurting again?" he asked.

"No, no, old habits," Harry reassured and went back to reading quietly.

Hermes still looked at him dubiously but reluctantly went back to his book. At the same time, a soft snort beside Harry broke him off from his concentration.

"Ron, mate, really," Hermes said, smacking Ron awake with the back of his hand. "If you're going to just sleep, you can go back to the dormitories."

Ron shook himself awake and sat up properly. "Wha – ? No, no, let me help," he said, rubbing his face to get rid of any remnants of sleep.

"Why are you even _tired_?" Hermes asked in exasperation.

"Mum's been bothering me all night," Ron grumbled, randomly skimming through the books to look for something to read. "She had this weird feeling that something's wrong with Gin." He snorted and darted a quick glance at Harry. "Aside from fancying my best mate, that is."

Harry's cheeks reddened. "Shut up, Ron," he said, smacking him with a book.

"But seriously, Ginny's been acting really shady for the past few days," Ron continued, absentmindedly rubbing his smarting arm. "Going to classes late, lapses in memory, being a little distant…"

"Maybe she's just homesick," Hermes suggested.

The redhead merely shrugged his shoulders and finally grabbed the thinnest book in the pile. "I dunno. She's always been weird anyway," Ron murmured and perused his book, ending the conversation.

Harry absentmindedly rubbed his scar again, prompting Hermes to frown. "Are you still hearing voices, Harry?" he blurted out.

The bespectacled wizard lightly glared at him, his cheeks a little pink. "Yes," he snappily replied. "I'm not barmy, Hermes."

"If you weren't, we should be hearing the voices too," he shot back matter-of-factly.

"Give it a rest, mate," Ron said, glaring at his direction.

Hermes opened his mouth, about to insist for him to tell someone like Madame Pomfrey or Dumbledore, but opted to close his mouth in the end. Sighing, he went back to his books and searched anything about the Chamber of Secrets, even though a part of him already knew it was futile.

* * *

"Why don't you try-out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team?" Hermes asked as he clambered up the stands, Ron not too far behind.

Ron snorted and Hermes would have really loved to look over his shoulders to look at him in question, but they were steadily rising away from the ground. He'd rather be seated firmly on the stands first before he made other unnecessary actions.

As soon as they were settled, Hermes frowned at Ron. "Well?"

Ron buried his chin under his scarf. "The Keeper position isn't open yet," he murmured, petulantly glaring at the field as the Gryffindor Quidditch team, clad in maroon, swarmed out from their dressing room and into the field.

"You want to be Keeper?" Hermes asked, surprised.

He shrugged. "Why not?" he asked. "You have a very important position, you know. Blocking the other team's Quaffle and such until the Seeker catches the snitch."

"Funny," he said. "From what I've concluded from your Quidditch rambles with the other blokes, I thought you wanted to be Seeker instead."

His cheeks turned into red up to the tips of his ears. "Well," he started, "I'm sure Harry wouldn't give up the position easily. I mean… he's _brilliant_ at it." He absentmindedly ruffled his hair and slouched on his seat. "I don't have the arm strength to be a Chaser or a Beater. So, Keeper."

Hermes noted a tinge of bitterness in Ron's voice, but chose to let it slide. Harry besting him in everything, Harry being the center of attention, and Harry being the bloody hero of the Wizarding World was still a sore topic for Ron. His jealousy was uncalled for, especially because Harry didn't ask to be who he was right now, but Hermes understood that Ron thrived in competition. As the youngest son, he had to keep up with successful brothers. Hermes was glad he was an only child.

"What the bloody hell?"

His musings were cut short at Ron's cursing, glancing towards the field once more. Mixed with the maroon-clad Gryffindors were numerous forest green-cloaked Slytherin Quidditch players.

"Oh, honestly," Hermes said, shooting up from his seat and quickly climbing down the steps. Ron had run ahead of him, seeing that he had longer limbs than Hermes.

By the time Hermes neared Harry and the other Quidditch players, he spied Iris Malfoy at the middle. She was also surprisingly dressed with Quidditch robes, her hair neatly held up into a high ponytail. Malfoy was in the middle of a speech based on the faces of the Gryffindors, and Hermes wasn't able to catch up everything.

"… right. And that's not the only thing new this year."

She then slowly transferred her broom handle to her other hand. Beside Hermes, Ron gasped.

"That's the new Nimbus 2001," he pointed out in awe. "How did you get those?"

Hermes' eyes widened, realizing that all of the Slytherin Quidditch team had identical brooms clutched in their hands.

"A gift from Iris' father," Montague, the Quidditch Captain, answered in a sneer.

Iris smirked and looked at Ron. "You see, Weasley," she drawled, "unlike _some_ , my father can afford the best."

Pure indignation sat at the tip of Hermes' tongue as Ron turned into a sickly shade of purple. "At least," Hermes snapped, effectively getting Iris' attention, "no one on the Gryffindor team had to _buy_ their way in. They got in due to pure talent."

Her face twisted into a nasty sneer while the other members of the Gryffindor team snickered behind her back. Iris stalked closer to Hermes until she was mere meters from him.

"No one asked for your opinion," she slowly seethed, "you filthy little mudblood."

Furious murmurs erupted from the Gryffindor team. Ron by then had pulled out his wand, his bloody _broken_ wand, and pointed it at Iris' face. Hermes, having not heard of such term before, rolled his eyes, deducing it was one of Malfoy's insults.

"Eat slugs, Malfoy," Ron nastily snarled.

"Ronald – "

But it was too late. A jet of purple shot out from the tip of his wand, but instead of hitting Malfoy on the face, it backfired and hit Ron's chest instead.

" – your wand is broken," Hermes lamely finished, noting in alarm as Ron turned into a sickly shade of green. With a mighty belch, Ron heaved on the ground and started vomiting slugs. "Classic Ron, acting without thinking."

Harry had rushed over Ron and tried to haul him up to his feet.

Iris and the other Slytherins were cruelly laughing at Ron's expense. Rounding back at her, Hermes glared. "You know that I was telling the truth, Malfoy," he spat. "Calling me ridiculous names doesn't erase that."

The fuming Slytherin pulled out her wand, ready to attack him, but Oliver Wood stood in between them.

"Help Harry bring Weasley away for help, Granger," he sternly said. When Hermes hesitated, he pierced him with a stare. "Go on."

"But Oliver, the practice…" Harry's words died down when Oliver shook his head and shot Montague a glare.

"Just go, Potter," Oliver said.

The triumphant smirks on the Slytherin's faces made Hermes angrier, but Harry was already dragging Ron away and he had no choice but to help him.

Later that day, as the Harry and Hermes brought Ron over to Hagrid's Hut, Hermes found out what 'mudblood' meant. He consequently gave Ron a smack behind his back, prompting him to vomit two more slugs.

"I always knew I was perceived as someone of dirty blood by snooty Purebloods," he shot back when Ron glared at him. "I've been called other more ridiculous names, Ronald. You didn't have to bloody swoop down and save the day."

"It's a derogatory term, Herms," Ron protested before vomiting another slug.

Hermes wrinkled his face and sat down beside Hagrid. " _And_?" he said, rolling his eyes.

"'Ermes," Hagrid said with pure indignation, "people don't usually use that name."

"Typical Malfoy to use the lowest of the low then," Hermes with a sigh.

Harry was looking at him worriedly. "You okay, though, Herms?" he asked. "I mean… after the Dragon breathed fire again…"

Admittedly, he was slightly upset. After being ostracized and isolated back in the Muggle world, there were still people here in the Wizarding World, where he _obviously_ belonged, who thought he wasn't worthy of mingling with them. He was tired, _so tired_ , of people telling him he didn't belong, that he was different. But after being called names numerous times before, he honestly didn't care anymore.

"I'm okay," he said with a tentative smile. "I could have answered Malfoy with a nasty remark but Ron had to stupidly use his broken wand and lost my chance."

Hagrid laughed heartily and clapped him on the back. Hermes shot forward with the force but gave Hagrid a pained smile. "Dirty blood, pureblood, loads of codswallop, I tell yer," Hagrid said with a small smile at Hermes. "There isn't a wizard alive today that's not half-blood or less. More to the point, they've yet ter think of a spell that our Hermes can't do."

Warmth pooled in his heart and he beamed up at Hagrid. "Thanks, Hagrid," he said. "That means a lot."

* * *

Hermes froze, a spell sitting at the tip of his tongue, before sheepishly turning to the stern glare of Professor McGonagall. At the corner of his eyes, he saw Malfoy quickly schooling her features and staring back at the Deputy Headmistress, her wand still raised, ready to attack.

A while ago, as Hermes was busy scanning through a book that could house some information about the Chamber of Secrets, Iris Malfoy and her cronies came clambering down and hurling insults at his general direction already. Hermes had ignored her for the first few minutes, slightly irritated that Ron and Harry were taking so long to clean up the mess they made back at Potions class.

Before he knew it, he snapped, sprang up from the stone floor with his wand on his hand. He wasn't entirely sure if he was imagining things but Malfoy looked pleased and excited, but such expression was quickly replaced by a smirk and a dangerous glint in her eyes. She had copied his stance, seemingly ready to attack, too.

Students were slowly forming a circle around them, people urging them to start dueling, and Hermes just really, _really_ wanted to wipe off her stupid smirk on her face.

"Mr. Granger, Miss Malfoy!" Professor McGonagall snapped. "We do not encourage such atrocious behavior in the hallways."

Her disappointed eyes landed on Hermes and he guiltily returned her gaze. He felt like he had failed his favorite teacher.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor and Slytherin," she continued.

"But, Professor, Gra – "

"Not a word, Miss Malfoy," she snapped, effectively silencing the infuriating girl. Hermes couldn't stop his lips from twitching in amusement. Iris saw it and shot him a quick glare.

"And _detention_. Tomorrow, 7 pm, at my office." Professor McGonagall then turned around and walked away before any of the students could protest.

Iris, fuming, shot a quick stinging hex just beside his right foot.

"OI!" Hermes exclaimed.

McGonagall twirled around, eyes still hardened into a stare, and both Hermes and Iris smiled at her innocently.

As soon as she was gone, Iris rounded at Hermes. "This is all your fault, mudblood," she snapped. She then tossed her hair and walked away, Crabbe and Goyle dutifully trailing behind her.

"That's bollocks, mate," Ron said, swinging an arm over his shoulders.

"What took you both so long?" Hermes asked, lingering annoyance still heard at the tone of his voice.

"Snape took his sweet time," Harry said, apologetically patting his back. "Come on. Maybe some dinner will cheer you up."

Hermes had been dreading his detention with Malfoy all morning. His sour mood was understandable and Harry and Ron tried their very best to at least make him feel better. Harry had suggested they research more about the Chamber of Secrets in the library, much to Ron's disgruntlement, but the redhead finally agreed. They cajoled him to eat his meals, distracted him with their annoying jokes, and by the time his detention came, he felt marginally better.

"You both will be cleaning the trophy room," Professor McGonagall said with a stern glare and a stiff upper lip. "No _magic_."

Iris loudly groaned and petulantly crossed her arms across her chest. Hermes, on the other hand, sighed and sullenly nodded. It was better than what he expected and couldn't complain.

Professor McGonagall accompanied them until they were in the trophy room then gave them rags for cleaning. "I expect this place to be spotless in three hours."

"Yes, professor," Hermes diligently replied, already falling on all fours to start scrubbing on one corner of the room.

It took him exactly twenty minutes to realize that he was the only one doing his job.

"You're supposed to be cleaning too, Malfoy," he pointed out with a frown.

Iris, who was quietly sitting on one of the rickety tables in the trophy room, flipped her hair over her shoulder and stared him down. "Malfoys don't really do any work that is _beneath_ them," she drawled, a small smirk growing on her face. "Besides, you're actually doing a marvelous job, Granger. So, why should I even bother?"

"Whatever, suit yourself," he murmured, not really in the mood to fight with the annoying Slytherin. Mentally, he thought about the Transfiguration essay he still hadn't started that was due next week. He was already running behind his schedule and it was all because of Iris Malfoy.

"What? No witty comeback, Granger?" Iris asked, elegantly jumping down from the table and sauntered closer to the Gryffindor. Her shoes with tiny heels clicked and clacked loudly in the room until she was standing in front of him. Hermes, still crouched on the floor, looked up and glared at the blonde.

"If you don't plan on working, just go at one corner and shut up, Malfoy," Hermes grumbled. Inwardly, he cursed himself for landing in this situation. He started to mentally rearrange his schedule that would please him, but Malfoy's black shoes stepped onto his rag, halting his furious scrubbing.

"Get off, Malfoy," he said, trying to yank the rag away, but Malfoy wouldn't move away.

"This is boring, Granger," she whined. "Just, I dunno, bloody insult me or something."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Well, if you are feeling so _bored_ , then maybe you could actually pick up your own rag and start cleaning," he pointed out.

She clucked her tongue after he successfully managed to dislodge the rag.

"Seriously, Malfoy, this isn't too hard," he said, continuing his cleaning. "It's actually therapeutic, you know. The constant scrubbing calms the mind. It lets your focus divert from tumultuous ones to… to peace."

Iris snorted. "Typical of Granger to find mundane tasks interesting," she murmured. At the corner of his eyes, though, he saw that she was curiously surveying her rag and started to wipe the grime away from one of the trophies in the room.

Unwittingly, he smiled. "It isn't too hard now, yeah," he commented.

Malfoy blushed under the dim lights of the trophy room and stilled her scrubbing. Looking up from the pot she was scrubbing, she glared at the Gryffindor. "Oh, don't you find this amusing?" she snarled. Hermes frowned, confused with her sudden ire.

"Good Godric, what's wrong with you?" he asked.

She crumpled her rag and threw it as far away from her as possible. "Shut up, Granger," she snapped, sat back up the rickety table, and crossed her arms.

"Bloody mental," he murmured under his breath, not entirely sure if she had heard him or not.

They stayed like that for thirty minutes – him cleaning, her doing absolutely nothing – and Hermes thought that this was better than being at each other's throats. He'd never been this incensed with other people, even when some bullying during his younger years turned physical, but there was always something about Iris Malfoy that sparked this senseless irritation in him. Honestly, it was taxing, and he was just glad that Malfoy was keeping quiet and letting him do his own part in peace.

But then, of course, this was Iris Malfoy and she never really left him alone.

Hermes Granger fervently believed that Malfoy's sole purpose in life was to make his life a living hell.

"So," she nonchalantly started, lazily gazing at her fingertips, "have you had any success with the house-elves lately, Granger?"

"Whatever do you mean?" he asked, frowning.

Iris snorted and gave him a withering glare. "Everybody knows you're trying to free them, idiot," she said. "Loads of bullshit, if you ask me. It's even laughable how you're trying to make a cute little club for them. I heard Dumbledore shut it down."

He stilled in his cleaning and glared. "I still need to make some concrete plans and proposals before Dumbledore agrees to – "

"Save it, Granger, I don't really care."

"No, you know what, you _have to care_ ," he exclaimed, throwing his rag on the floor and climbing back on his feet. "You snooty, rich bastards would never understand because you never even cared one whit because they are not people." He curled his hands into fists, remembering how even his Gryffindor friends dismissed his crusade. "'Oh, don't you worry that silly little head of yours, Hermes, that's just their job' or 'They love what they do so don't you go disrupting what isn't even damaged'. Of course, they would love their job – they were made to believe that. That is their whole life!"

Iris slowly narrowed her eyes and jumped down from the rickety table again. "They've been serving masters even before you and I were born, Granger," she snapped. "Why are you making a big deal out of this?"

"Because, they deserved _better_ ," he grounded out. "It… it angersme that they let people order them around, mock them, make them do things that would implicate them because… because it's their freaking job. They're being treated as slaves, and it's barbaric, and I cannot believe even the ministry cannot see the seriousness of this issue."

Iris snorted and gave him a mocking smirk. "You wouldn't understand because you're just a little mudblood, Granger," she casually said.

"Right, a _mudblood_ ," he snarled, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Do you actually believe that loads of bullshit, Malfoy?"

"Of course," she said without skipping a beat. "There are Purebloods, and Half-Bloods, and Mudbloods. That has always been the norm before your little muggle parents decided to do some shady business and steal magic from _our kind_ so that their child could become one of us."

He gaped at her, disbelieving. "Is that what you high and mighty Purebloods think about us?" he snapped, bristling with unimaginable anger. "Do you really believe that everything I'm doing, every spell that I've done, every potion I've created, was all because I _stole_ your magic?"

Iris glared. "Everybody knows that, Granger," she said. "It's the universal truth."

Hermes shook his head. "Do you even hear yourself, Malfoy? I cannot… I cannot believe…" He shook, raw anger radiating from his honey-colored eyes. "You know what, believe whatever you what, Malfoy. Believe that I'm not but the mud under your designer shoes, believe that house-elves aren't oppressed, believe that you bloody Purebloods are above all else. I'm done. I'm _so_ done trying to reason out to you that your beliefs are wrong."

He turned around and started stomping towards the door, detention be damned. He'd beg for Professor McGonagall to give him something else to do because he could not spend another hour tidying this room up with a close-minded bint.

"That's rich, Granger!" she shrieked, clambering towards him. He stopped in his steps, his back still facing the Slytherin. " _You_ think you are above all else because of your bloody brains and your House and your stupid, _stupid_ morals."

"YES," he bellowed, turning around to face Iris Malfoy. The girl was pink in the face, her eyes a stormy grey. "I am, I am above youbecause you're a racist, close-minded bigot who only knows how to primp her hair or insult other people or – "

His words died down a resounding smack echoed in the room. Hermes backpedaled due to the force of her slap with his cheek already in pain.

"Shut up, Granger," she said, voice dangerously low. "You don't know anything. _Shut up_."

He looked back at her, noting that her glare had turned murderous. He didn't doubt that she would resort to blasting spells if he further provoked her.

But he wasn't done. He wouldn't back down now. He wanted her to know that what she believed in was stupid and just… just _plain wrong_.

"You know, for the record, I really pity you, Malfoy," Hermes said, unable to stop his words from pouring. "You try so very hard to be the best in everything but still come up short."

Her hand twitched and was about to slap him again, but he anticipated it this time. Gripping her hand in place, he gave her the darkest glare he could muster and sneered. "What would your daddy dearest think you are being bested by a filthy little mudblood?"

He then pushed her hand away and turned around, striding as far away from her as possible. He knew it was stupid to turn his back away from a murderous dragon, but he refused to show her that he was weak, that he would back down all because of her stupid beliefs.

It relieved, and bothered him really, that no spell had hit him until he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

By then, most of his anger had dissipated. All that was left was exhaustion and, to his disgruntlement, guilt.

Maybe he went overboard. His mother used to tell him he had fantastic tempers if he really wanted to, something he unfortunately inherited from her.

The words he had told Malfoy a while ago were cruel and uncalled for. He knew he had hit a nerve when she turned murderous and… and _distraught_. Now that the angry haze had lifted, he recalled everything that had transpired back at the Trophy Room. The way her eyes glistened was unmistakable.

True, her beliefs were wrong and they were definitely close-minded, but he couldn't really fault her when such values were deeply ingrained into her ever since she was born. It was saddening, really, knowing that with that great intelligence of hers, she could have done something good… something _great_.

Maybe, her life at home wasn't exactly fine and dandy, either. Maybe she was just terribly misguided and would need someone who could show her that there were more to things than blood statuses.

"Aren't you going to come in, dear?" the Fat Lady asked, curiously peering down at the conflicted Gryffindor student.

"Right, yes," he said, slumping down and murmuring the password.

He was thankful that most of his peers were already at bed when he came in. He didn't know what he would say when Harry and Ron bombarded him with questions about his detention with the Dragon.

As he slipped into his bed, Hermes dreaded facing Professor McGonagall the very next day and explaining his side.

* * *

Iris quickly hid behind an alcove and held her breath. Potter and Weasley passed by, identical expressions of worry on their faces as they furiously whispered with each other. She wasn't able to catch what they were talking about but that didn't matter.

As soon as they were gone, she peeked at the corridor, scanning for any other students. Satisfied that there was nobody else, she quickly stalked out of the alcove and slipped inside the Hospital Wing.

To her immense relief, Madame Pomfrey hadn't arrived yet. She overheard during dinner that the mediwitch was with Professor Sprout in the greenhouses, tending to the mandrakes that would help resolve the petrification of the victims.

She darted a quick glance at the petrified form of Colin Creevey, hands still poised to take a photograph, and the other muggleborn Hufflepuff whose name she had forgotten.

At the farthest bed from the door was the latest victim of petrification, Hermes Granger.

Iris stilled for a moment, suddenly feeling uneasy at seeing one of the most insufferable people she had ever met immobile with wide, terrified eyes.

"Look who's pitiful now, mudblood," she whispered with frown, remembering their terrible row back at the Trophy Room. Iris knew she should have hexed him after stalking away from their fight, but she was too angry to even pull out her wand. By the time she had calmed herself down, he was long gone.

When she returned to her own common room, she promised herself she would get her revenge and give the know-it-all Gryffindor a piece of her mind. So maybe he had the upper hand during that fight, but Iris wouldn't back down just yet until he finally conceded that he was _beneath_ her, that she surpassed him in perhaps all aspects except knowledge.

But the stupid Gryffindor had to go and get himself petrified the very next day by the unknown entity roaming around Hogwarts. Potter and Weasley were horrified; it finally dispelled the rumor that Harry Potter was doing all these because no matter how much she hated him, he knew he wouldn't do that to one of his best friends.

Admittedly, she knew even beforehand that Potter had nothing to do about the petrification. It was fun seeing him being bullied by others because of the possibility; _heck_ , nobody had ever seen a Parselmouth since _Voldemort_ so it was bloody suspicious.

However, ever since Mrs. Norris was petrified, she remembered a specific conversation his father had with some of his acquaintances back in Malfoy Manor. She wasn't entirely sure what they were talking about, probably boring political stuff, but a specific topic piqued her attention.

" _The diary has been given to the girl,"_ her formidable father assured one of his associates. _"The snake will be set free."_

She didn't understand the context of those lines, but Iris knew it was significant.

After Colin Creevey was petrified next sometime last November, Iris started to investigate. She knew the Golden Trio were also trying to search for clues but their research had been futile so far. They were, after all, searching at the wrong books.

One thing she would forever be thankful for as a Malfoy was their extensive library. If Granger was to shut up for once in his life, perhaps it would be when he stepped foot in their vast library. _Or_ when he was bloody petrified.

Iris shot another quick look at Granger again and rolled her eyes, not quite sure why she was suddenly feeling mad.

As she plopped down on one of the vacant chairs beside his bed, she recalled the dark book she always kept in the secret compartment in her trunk. She knew if her father knew she had brought _Magick Moste Evile_ in school he would have a conniption, but it was for the best, especially for emergencies like _this_.

With the threat of opening the Chamber of Secrets and students getting petrified one after the other, it didn't take her long to finally find a plausible explanation. She remembered staring at the ominous sketch of a basilisk on her dark book, its yellow eyes glinting and its fangs dripping with venom. Just looking at it brought shivers down her spine, knowing that if she were to stare at the real basilisk's eyes, she would have been dead by then.

She carried the knowledge of a basilisk roaming around Hogwarts for months. She debated whether she would share this information with Crabbe and Goyle before, but finally decided not to when her so-called friends acted strangely one evening. Sharing it with Theo and Blaise, marginally better than the former, would have been a nice choice, too, but she finally decided keeping it to herself would be for the best.

It made her triumphant that she knew something that the Golden Trio didn't. She couldn't help that little twitch on her lips when Granger would lament the latest book he was reading was useless. True, they just didn't have the right book, but _still_. It felt good to best Granger at something.

But then, of course, said Gryffindor just had to go and let himself be petrified by the basilisk. Potter and Weasley still had no idea what creature was causing havoc in their school. _Of course_ , she wouldn't do anything about it. What was she, a bleeding Gryffindor? But if these Two Idiots couldn't solve this dilemma soon enough, students wouldn't be lucky anymore to indirectly stare at its yellow eyes and get petrified instead.

Iris refused to think that Granger would have most likely died if he hadn't seen its eyes through the mirror. Swallowing down the uneasy feeling in her heart, she firmly told herself this was only because nobody was going to kill Granger _but her_. She wanted to see the terror in his eyes when she finally put an end to his life.

Which was why, in a moment of temporary insanity, Iris tore the page about the basilisk from her dark book and bounded to the Hospital Wing.

She knew it would be suspicious if she outright went to Potter and Weasley and wordlessly give them that piece of paper. They were suspicious enough of her anyway, and she'd rather they didn't start asking too many questions. So Granger was the next best option, despite his petrification. His other best friends kept on visiting him anyway, so they were bound to find it out sooner or later.

Grabbing a quill from her bag, she scribbled _'Pipes, idiots'_ on top of the scary sketch of the basilisk and crammed the parchment inside one of Granger's hand.

Her hand lingered a bit and as she stared at Granger's petrified face once more, tentatively trying to make sense of the other foreign feeling that rose into her heart when she found out he was petrified.

He was so full of himself sometimes, always sure that he was doing the right thing while radiating warmth that irritated her immensely. He was a _mudblood_ for Merlin's sake. He was supposed to be inferior in everything, which baffled her so much why someone as lowly as him could beat her in all of the subjects.

Annoyance bubbled at the pit of her stomach, retrieving her hand this time. Granger made her very, _very_ confused and she didn't like it one bit.

She looked at his face for the last time before leaving the Hospital Wing without saying goodbye.

* * *

"Oh, I'm sorry I wa – "

"Watch where you're going, mudblood."

Hermes' mouth clammed upon hearing Malfoy's unmistakable voice. He frowned at the mess he had made, mostly Malfoy's things, scattered all over the corridor. He sighed and immediately crouched down, neatly piling her things to pass it on to her.

"And what do you think you're doing?" she snapped, also on her knees as she hastily shoved her things inside her designer back.

"Helping you," he said, adding "Obviously" as an afterthought.

To his surprise, Malfoy merely rolled her eyes and continued gathering her things.

Truth be told, being around the Slytherin made him feel a little awkward, their fantastic row still fresh in his mind. He had debated whether he should apologize or not, but decided it would be better to keep quiet. After all, Iris seemed fond of telling him to shut up anyway.

Still, it didn't stop him from feeling some semblance of guilt every time his eyes settled on her. Not that she needed to know because ever since he was awakened from his petrification, she'd been her usual mean self so Hermes wondered if they were back to normal. _Or_ , their relationship just grew worse.

Sighing, he knew dwelling about his hostile relationship with the Slytherin would lead him nowhere. Hermes shook his head to rid of such thoughts and grabbed onto her unrolled parchment. He gave it a brief glance and was about to hand it off to her, but paused, eyes growing a little wide.

Her penmanship looked _awfully_ familiar and Hermes racked his brain where he had seen such refined, sophisticated handwriting before. It was startlingly feminine, as opposed to the chicken scratches Harry and Ron tend to do on their own homework. Rolling his eyes, he wondered if even bratty Purebloods like her had to undergo calligraphy lessons to perfect their handwriting. It wasn't too farfetched, really.

And then, it clicked.

It still astonished him immensely that Harry was able to figure out that the creature that had been petrifying the residents of Hogwarts was in fact a basilisk. He had come across the basilisk in his own copy of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ , but its description was abysmal, seeing that it was a particularly dark creature and breeding one was extremely difficult. All he knew was that it was classified as XXXXX and its extremely deadly venom could only be cured by phoenix tears.

He knew he was about to identify the creature as the basilisk, he was bloody well sure of it, but his unfortunate petrification halted any further researches.

When he asked Harry how he knew the basilisk and where it was hiding, Harry looked at him strangely and told him he had this torn page of a basilisk in his hand with a scribbled note of ' _Pipes, idiots'_ on top.

" _You really should have left the 'idiots', mate,"_ Harry had told him with a grin. _"Ron and I both know that in this little trio, you're the brilliant one and we're the idiots that kept on dragging you into dangerous adventures."_

Hermes had actually let this incident slide, thanking Merlin that at least all of his best friends were still alive; that _he_ was alive.

But then, upon seeing Malfoy's neat scrawl on her homework, he finally discovered who had helped them.

Iris suddenly snatched her homework away from his limp hand. "Trying to get ideas for your Transfiguration essay now, are you, Granger?" she asked.

"I've finished that essay ages ago," he muttered distractedly.

"Of course," Iris said with a roll of her eyes. Then, grabbing her bag, she slung it across her shoulders and turned around without another word.

"Pipes, idiots?" Hermes blurted out before he could stop himself.

The way her shoulders momentarily tensed was all he needed. He couldn't stop his mouth from gaping, even after Malfoy looked over her shoulder with an indecipherable expression on her face.

"What nonsense are you blubbering about?" she snapped nonchalantly, _too_ nonchalantly. "Maybe that Mandrake Restorative Draught hadn't reached your brain yet, Granger."

Then, she was sashaying away from him and Hermes was left staring at her back in disbelief.


	3. Third Year

Hermes chanced a glance outside the windows in the Gryffindor Tower and shivered. The black-cloaked creatures of nightmares swarmed around, making Hogwarts extra drearier. Although he perfectly understood that it was necessary to strengthen the defenses of Hogwarts due to the possible attack of Sirius Black, Hermes mournfully thought it would have been better if they chose any other means than _dementors_.

The screams he heard during their train ride still kept him awake at night. The way the compartment suddenly grew unbearably freezing, echoes of unidentified screams loud against his ears, the dementors quickly became one of the most unpleasant creatures he had ever met. And he'd seen quite a lot, especially because he was best friends with someone who unluckily attracted hideous creatures.

"Hey, you're back!"

He pulled his gaze away from the window to see Harry Potter strolling in. Ron already abandoned the Quidditch magazine he had been reading a while ago and was now quickly walking towards Harry.

"Hey," Hermes called, sauntering closer to his friends. He frowned, noting the exhaustion in Harry's eyes. "Tough lesson?"

"Yeah," he sighed, moving past his best friends to collapse on one of the overstuffed couches near the fireplace. "Bloody hell, I just want to sleep."

"You haven't finished your Charms essay due tomorrow," Hermes reminded.

Harry released a monumental sigh and threw him a withered glance. "Thanks for the reminder, Hermes," he sarcastically replied.

Hermes grinned and shrugged his shoulders, plopping down on Harry's right side. Ron easily claimed the other spot.

"So, the Patronus Charm?" Hermes urged, wanting to hear more about this intriguing charm. Ever since Professor Lupin defended them from the dementors in Hogwarts Express, Hermes had been itching to put this spell into practice, too. He was truthfully a little jealous that only Harry could attend these extra lessons with their DADA professor.

A wide, brilliant grin spread on Harry's face. "I've produced an incorporeal one," he excitedly recounted. "Not exactly corporeal yet; it was more of a mist than a true form. Professor Lupin reckoned it's still progress."

Hermes nodded. "Even adult wizards have a difficult time producing an incorporeal one," he said, remembering a passage he read from one of the many books about the Patronus Charm. "I wonder what your Patronus would look like."

Harry shrugged. "Who knows," he murmured, snatching the Quidditch magazine from Ron's hands.

"Oi!" the redhead exclaimed. Harry compromised by offering him the other page.

"So," Harry continued. "I came across Malfoy and her stupid cronies a while ago."

Hermes' ears perked at the mention of the Slytherin. "Yeah?" he asked.

"Let me guess," Ron said after a ridiculous snort. "She made that stupid imitation of a dementor again."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Of course," he said. "But, besides that, she made this comment that bothered me."

When Hermes merely wordlessly looked at him, he continued, "She pointed out some of Professor Lupin's weird… _behavior_." He absentmindedly rubbed his scar, which, Hermes finally accepted was purely out of habit. "I dunno… he seems really tired for some days, yeah? Like _bone-deep_ tired. Like he'd been through an exhausting battle or – "

" – he's a werewolf?" Hermes helpfully supplemented.

Harry's green eyes widened while Ron's mouth fell open. Hermes, realizing he voiced one of his speculations aloud, grew sheepish. " _Well_ , I haven't really proven anything yet," he quickly added.

"Why the bloody hell did you even think that?" Harry asked under his breath. He cautiously looked around, trying to see if anybody was listening to their conversation.

"I have nothing against him, really," Hermes continued in a whisper. "I mean, Professor Lupin's brilliant and so far he'd been the greatest DADA professor we've ever had but I can't help but _notice_ stuff…"

"Like?" Ron urged.

"Like the scars on his face… how Snape had to take over Professor Lupin for a day after the _full moon_. Snape was bloody hinting it, too! Lessons on werewolves…" Hermes finished.

"Bloody hell, you're right," Ron said, considerably paling.

" _Still_ , he's brilliant," Hermes insisted. "Just because he has lycanthropy doesn't mean he is less of a human. Also, there's the Wolfsbane Potion. I'm sure if Dumbledore hired Lupin, he'd known about his affliction and made arrangements about it."

Harry thoughtfully ruffled his already disheveled hair and frowned. "Nobody must know," he said after a full minute, giving Hermes a stern glare.

"I won't gallivant around and spread rumors without proof," Hermes claimed in indignation. "Besides, if it really is true, it isn't my secret to tell."

"Malfoy's going to have a field day if she discovered a werewolf's teaching us Defense Against the Dark Arts," the redhead added with a scowl. "'My father will hear about this! Think you can let a bloody werewolf teach us? Hogwarts has really gone to the dogs.'"

"What the hell was that, Ron?!" Harry exclaimed, releasing a boisterous laugh that attracted curious eyes from their other Housemates.

Hermes was also snickering under his breath. "Malfoy definitely sounds like that, mate," he said, prompting Ron to throw the Quidditch magazine towards the curly-haired brunet.

* * *

"Wait a minute, you're telling us _Fred and George_ willingly gave that… that piece of parchment to you?"

Harry sighed for the umpteenth time. "Yes, Ron, how many times do I have to repeat myself?" he asked, clearly annoyed.

Ron made a face and shifted on Harry's bed, draping his legs on top of Hermes' stomach. "Get off, Ronald," Hermes said, pushing his long legs away but Ron kept them in place. "I'm not gonna lie, mate, but maybe they're just pulling your leg," Ron pointed out.

"I hate to say this but I agree with Ron this time, Harry," Hermes said, gravely nodding. Ron rolled his eyes and kicked him, smirking when Hermes hissed in pain. "I was agreeing with you, you git." Hermes then grabbed the blank parchment from Harry's hands and shot a series of spells. It was only after he muttered his tenth spell when he returned the supposed map. "How did they call this again?"

"The Marauders' Map," Harry explained. "And it's legitimate, mates. I'll show you."

He placed the tip of his wand on the blank parchment and whispered, " _I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_."

"What the f – " Ron snatched the parchment and surveyed it with excited eyes.

"What? What? Let me see," Hermes said, reaching out to snatch it from Ron's hands. His eyes widened upon seeing that the parchment was blank no more, an accurate sketch of Hogwarts right at the middle of it. His eyes travelled to the written greeting on top and read aloud, "'Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers, are proud to present the Marauder's Map."

"I wasn't done look at it," Ron whined, but Hermes was already busy flipping through the map. Little footprints scattered around the perfect blueprint of Hogwarts. His eyes immediately darted at the Gryffindor Tower and almost fell off the bed when he saw his name, Harry's and Ron's clumped on top of Harry's bed.

Harry wore a proud grin on his face. "I told you it's legitimate," he said.

"Who're Messrs Moony, Wormtal, Padfoot, and Prongs?" Ron asked after successfully snatching the map back.

"Dunno," Harry said. "Fred and George didn't know either, but they practically worshipped them." He absentmindedly rubbed his scar and leaned against his bed. "They said these blokes knew secret passages that not even Filch knew. It helped them with their shenanigans and all."

Ron scowled. "So that's why they're rarely caught!" he exclaimed. "Sneaky bastards. Wait until Mum hears about this."

"Don't tell Mrs. Weasley about this," Harry said with a sharp glare. "The less people know about it, the better."

"But why would they just give you something so… so _handy_?" Ron whined, perturbed that they thought of skipping him, their _brother_ , just to give it to Harry.

"Said I might need it more than they do," Harry replied. "As the Boy-Who-Lived and all."

Hermes still eyed the parchment in suspicion. " _Harry_ ," he said, "don't you think we should be more careful? Remember Riddle's diary?"

"It's not the same, Hermes," Harry insisted. "This doesn't respond or anything. In fact, I think it's made by pranksters rather than evil teenage versions of a dark lord."

Hermes sighed, knowing he had a point.

"So, I have an idea," Harry then said, a brilliant grin splitting on his face.

Hermes groaned, not liking the expression. Ron, however, perked up and grinned. "Go on, mate," the redhead urged.

"What do you think about sneaking off to Hogsmeade?" he suggested, wagging his eyebrows. "You know, buying some sweets at Honeydukes."

The sanest of the Golden Trio looked at him in horror. "That's a terrible idea, Harry Potter!" he exclaimed. "What if we come across dementors along the way and we get killed. Or _worse_ – "

"Expelled?" Harry and Ron quipped in unison, identical teasing grins on their faces.

Hermes turned into a brilliant shade of red.

Ron laughed loudly. "Three years had passed, ladies and gentlemen, but Hermes Granger still hadn't sorted out his priorities," he declared.

"Shut up, Ronald," he said, chucking a pillow at his head.

"Come on, _Hermes_ ," Harry pleaded, already rummaging inside his trunk to pull out his Invisibility Cloak. "I know a passage that will bring us straight to Hogsmeade." He waved the handy map in the air and grinned. "Besides, this map can tell us if a professor is nearby. What say you?"

Hermes still hesitated. "I still don't think it's a good idea," he grumbled.

"We promise to buy you your favorite toffees until the school year ends," Harry promised.

The curly-haired Gryffindor scowled. "That's not fair, Potter," he snarled, annoyed that they knew one his weakness were toffees.

"Come on," Ron whined, slinging an arm around his shoulder. "Live a little, Hermes Granger."

Hermes groaned loudly. "I really dislike you both right now," he grumbled.

Harry slung his arm over his shoulder's too and grinned. "Ready for another adventure, Golden Trio?"

Hermes sighed, believing that he would really die young for befriending these two idiots.

* * *

"You poor, poor thing," Hermes cooed, scooping Crookshanks into his arms and glaring darkly at Ron.

"How can you love someone looking like that?" Ron whined, pointing an accusatory finger at the smashed face of the half-kneazle.

Hermes snorted. "And you think your precious _Scabbers_ is a beauty," he sneered.

"Don't listen to him Scabbers!" Ron exclaimed, comically placing his hands over the ears of his oversized rat. Crookshanks started snarling at the ugly rat, prompting him to jump down from Ron's arms and scamper back into their dormitory. Hermes' cat twisted violently in his arms until he had no choice but to put her back on the ground.

"If your stupid cat kills Scabbers, I'm going to kill _you_ , Hermes," Ron threatened with a glare.

Harry finally decided to emerge out from their dormitory. "Times like this I'm really glad Hagrid bought me an owl instead," he said, swinging both of his arms over their shoulders. As the shortest of the group, he had to tiptoe a little just to reach them. Hermes once pointed out he should eat more if he didn't want to be left behind, but Harry merely gave him a glare and a challenge for Hermes to live with his relatives for a month.

"What do you reckon Hagrid will bring to class this time?" Ron asked, eyeing his monster book with disgust.

"Who knows?" Hermes said with a deft shrug. After Hagrid showed them the baby dragon back in their first year, he wouldn't be surprised anymore if he managed to drag one of the acromantulas from the deep part of the Forbidden Forest to be their lesson for the day.

Once they arrived near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the half-giant was still nowhere to be found. It was unfortunate that the Gryffindors had Care of Magical Creatures with the Slytherins. That meant Malfoy would be there, and she would undoubtedly start being annoying again.

Hermes couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes when Iris Malfoy taunted Harry once more about the dementors and his fainting spell. Hermes tried to grab onto Harry to keep him in place, but The-Boy-Who-Lived was already stomping closer to a smirking Malfoy.

As he watched their exchange of insults, Hermes once again wondered what Iris Malfoy's ulterior motives were when she secretly helped them last year. There was a small hope in him that perhaps his words had finally reached her heart, now questioning everything that was taught to her, but once school started, the Slytherin was still the same. He wasn't entirely sure why he was disappointed, though, and tried not to think about Malfoy ever since.

Harry and Malfoy's banter was cut off once Hagrid came, a wide, excited grin behind his bushy beard. Hermes silently groaned; a happy Hagrid didn't bode well.

"Good morning!" he greeted cheerily. Harry gave Malfoy one last withering glare before sidling between Hermes and Ron. "Terday, I have a special little treat for yeh lot!"

Malfoy didn't bother hiding a snort. Hermes shot her a glare, but the Slytherin merely smirked in return.

_Shame_ , she hadn't really changed at all.

"Buckbeak, come here boy," he called out.

It was comical how all of them held their breath in frightened anticipation. Hagrid tried to introduce blast-ended skrewts on their first lesson that year, much to Hermes' horror. The half-giant reassured that they would all take it up on fourth year instead because he had just started to breed the babies.

Hermes heard hooves before a magnificent creature, with a body, hind legs and tail of a horse, and with wings, front legs, and head of a giant eagle came into view. His steel-colored beak was large and menacing. Hermes shivered slightly when his orange, beady eyes connected with his own.

"Can anybody tell me what he is?" Hagrid asked, fondly patting the creature's huge head.

"Hippogriff," Hermes answered breathlessly, forgetting to raise his hand.

Hagrid beamed. "Quite right, Hermes. Take 10 points fer Gryffindor," he said with a proud smile.

"But Hagrid," the Gryffindor slowly continued, "hippogriffs are Class XXX."

His bushy brows connected in the middle. "Quite right, too," he said, a little confused. "Err… take another 5 points fer Gryffindor, Hermes."

Hermes held back a groan and tried not to smack his forehead. Trust Hagrid to overlook the small insignificant fact that Class XXX creatures should only be handled by competent wizards, well-trained to handle creatures that could potentially cause harm or death to other people. Seeing that there was only a half-giant, who generally think that _all_ creatures were safeto handle, surrounded by wide-eyed third years and with a proud hippogriff at the very front already spelled disaster.

"Swot," Ron whispered disguised as a cough. Harry snickered and Hermes hit the pointy end of his elbow against his chest. The bespectacled wizard lightly glared at him.

"So," Hagrid said, mightily clapping his hands to get their attention, "first thing yeh need ter know about hippogriffs is that they are very proud creatures. Very easily offended. Yeh do now want ter insult a hippogriff." A warning glint appeared in his dark eyes as his gaze swept throughout the crowd. "That might be the last thing yeh'll ever do."

Hermes nervously swallowed and eyed the hippogriff.

"Now, who wants to come forward and say hello?" Hagrid gleefully asked.

Hermes and Ron didn't hesitate in pushing Harry forward. The Gryffindor stumbled a little but managed to regain his balance.

"Harry! Brilliant!" he exclaimed, gesturing him to come forward.

Harry glared at his best friends. "You're the bloody Boy-Who-Lived," Hermes said with an innocent grin. "I'm sure a hippogriff's powerful beak won't be your cause of demise, Harry."

"Some friends you are, you wankers," Harry said. Ron snickered while Hermes grinned.

"Remember, don't break eye contact," Hermes ordered once Hagrid grabbed Harry's shoulder and urged him forward.

Hermes nervously watched as the hippogriff eyed Harry with his large, orange eyes. Somehow, he was starting to regret volunteering Harry when the hippogriff stood at his tallest height and looked down at Harry.

"Easy," Harry said, staring intently into his orange eyes. He raised his hand, a universal sign he meant no harm, and slowly inched forward. "Easy." Then, he gave a deep bow without breaking any eye contact.

Hermes finally released the breath he didn't realize he was holding when Buckbeak bowed in return and snuggled his beak against Harry's palm.

"Well done, Harry!" Hagrid exclaimed, throwing a dead squirrel into the air for the hippogriff to capture. "Another ten points ter Gryffindor!"

Harry proudly grinned at his best friends. Ron gave a two thumbs up while Hermes shook his head, murmuring "Show off" under his breath.

But then, to their utmost surprise, Hagrid suddenly lifted Harry off the ground and placed him on the hippogriff's back.

"Hagrid, no!" Hermes exclaimed in horror, but it was too late. Buckbeak opened his mighty wings and started to run, gaining momentum, until he jumped into the air and started to swoop around. Harry released a loud scream, followed by a boisterous laugh, and Hermes scowled. Typical Potter, enjoying this bloody dangerous stint.

"That was dangerous, Hagrid," Hermes murmured at their professor, who was also clearly enjoying.

"Oh, lighten up, Hermes," Hagrid said, clapping his back. Hermes shot forward with the force, deepening his scowl. "Buckbeak wouldn't do anything to Harry. He's a good boy."

"That is a Class XXX, sure," he continued under his breath, crossing his arms and nervously waited until the hippogriff landed back on the ground.

Harry slipped away, his hair impossibly messy due to the wind, but his cheeks were flushed and his green eyes alight with excitement. The class broke into excited clapping and Hermes hesitantly joined in. At least Harry was safe back on the ground.

"Well, you aren't dangerous at all, are you," Malfoy suddenly spat, pushing Neville to the side.

Hermes' eyes widened when the infuriating Slytherin stomped closer to the hippogriff. Buckbeak was already standing up to his fullest height.

"Malfoy, bloody hell!" Hermes exclaimed, but his warning fell into deaf ears.

"You great horrible brute," she snarkily commented with that stupid, _stupid_ smirk on her face.

"Malfoy, no," Hagrid cried, horrified.

But it was too late. Buckbeak stood on his hind legs, opened his wings, and released a squawk that was most definitely not friendly. Iris realized the grave offense she made and shrieked, shielding her face with her arm when the hippogriff slashed at her with his sharp talons.

Hagrid immediately jumped in between them until Buckbeak calmed down.

On the ground, Malfoy was crying in pain, a huge gash on her arm.

"Serves her right, that jealous bint," Ron murmured under his breath. Hermes was just getting over his initial shock and watched as Hagrid scooped the injured Slytherin in his arms, hurriedly going into the castle to bring her to the Hospital Wing. Malfoy was screaming bloody murder, threatening Hagrid that she would tell everything to her father, until they were both out of sight from the forest.

* * *

Iris scowled at the bandage wrapped around her arm. So maybe she was exaggerating a bit; well, she could actually move it around already and technically it was just a small gash. Still, it was painful as hell and it was enough to put her into a bad mood.

Madame Pomfrey already told her she could go back to her Common Room but one glare from the student, the mediwitch finally relented to let her stay the night.

Her cronies had yet to come by. Crabbe and Goyle were most probably still wolfing down their meals. It was annoying that it were Blaise and Theo who dropped by, teasing her about her injury and even jokingly suggesting to write stupid things on her bandage. Of course she didn't agree. What was she, _twelve_?

Sighing in boredom, she leant her head against her pillow. She hoped Crabbe and Goyle would come over so that she could order them to bring her things. She could already start her Potions essay and maybe finish it before she went back to her Common Room.

Footsteps from the Hospital Wing door perked her up. She tore her bed curtains away, hoping it was her cronies, but scowled upon seeing Hermes Granger instead.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she snapped, realizing that he was clutching her designer satchel. She eyed him suspiciously, an indecipherable look in his eyes.

"Hagrid cornered me and told me to give your bag," he said, dropping the said bag on her lap.

"Why didn't that oaf give it to Crabbe or Goyle instead?" she murmured, pulling out her wand and using it to poke her bag at all corners. " _Finite Incantatem_." It almost disappointed her when nothing happened.

"Merlin, Malfoy, I'm not petty enough to hex your things," he snorted, realizing what she had done. Iris shot him a glare, but Hermes merely rolled his eyes. "If you must know, your two buffoons are still busy shoving food into their throats. Honestly, I think they have separate stomachs for the different courses."

She snorted in return. "I could say the same about Weasely," she pointed out.

A corner of his mouth twitched, but he didn't reply. Instead, he still stood beside her bed, silent.

"Do you need something else?" she snapped, growing a little uncomfortable with his gaze. She loosened her tie and glared at the closed window. _Bloody Merlin_ , it was getting warmer in this room.

"Your injury…"

She looked back at him, eyes narrowed once more. "What's it to you?" she said, absentmindedly cradling her injured arm against her chest.

Hermes turned slightly pink before releasing a resigned sigh. "Never mind," he grumbled under his breath.

Still, the annoying Gryffindor didn't leave. "If you have nothing else to do, can you please leave, Granger?"

He sighed once more and started shuffling away. Halfway to the door, Granger stopped and turned around. He rummaged something in his robe pocket and threw it towards her before she could shield herself. Whatever he gave her hit her squarely on her forehead.

"OI!" she exclaimed, rubbing on the sore spot.

The corner of his mouth twitched once more. "Get well soon, Malfoy," he said, turning around and finally leaving her alone.

Iris suspiciously looked at the thing on her lap. Surprised, she recognized it as a toffee candy Granger loved to munch on. She grabbed the little sweet, murmured another " _Finite Incantatem_ " just to make sure. When nothing happened, she looked back at the closed door of the Hospital Wing in confusion.

Curiosity finally outweighed her suspicion. She knew Granger abhorred sweets (something to do about his parents, she wasn't quite sure nor cared) _except_ toffees. Iris wasn't exactly a big fan of the said sweet, though.

Finally peeling off the wrapper, a sweet smell teased her nose and she realized she hadn't had dinner yet.

She popped the candy inside her mouth and chewed a little as a small blush appeared on her fair cheeks.

* * *

Buckbeak was going to die, Hagrid's job was on the line, all because of the bratty Malfoy.

Hermes was fuming when he heard the news from the distraught Harry Potter. Although it was questionable why Hagrid had to bring a hippogriff to class, a freaking _Class XXX_ at that, it was all of Iris Malfoy's fault why she was injured in the first place! Hagrid had fairly warned them hippogriffs were easily offended after all. If the Slytherin just listened and didn't do anything overtly _stupid_ , no one was going to get hurt. But no, _oh no_ , Malfoy just had to tell everything to her father. They had connections far and wide, even reaching the ministry, which finally declared Buckbeak to be dangerous and sentenced him to death. Lucius Malfoy also wanted Hagrid sacked and threatened to withdraw a huge sum of money from Hogwarts if Dumbledore refused to.

"We have to go," Harry urged, dragging both Ron and Hermes to Hagrid's Hut. "Maybe we can still do something about it."

"Harry," Hermes said with a sigh, trying to keep up with him, "even Dumbledore is powerless. What more can we do?"

Ron was slowly turning red with rage. "Stupid Malfoy!" he exclaimed. "This is all her fault."

Hermes' lips turned into a thin line, concurring whole-heartedly. He mentally punched himself, thinking that Iris Malfoy had actually a shred of goodness in her soul. Now, Hermes was wholly convinced that the only explanation why Malfoy helped them back in second year was purely for personal gain. He didn't care what real reason she had.

He scowled and ran faster. And to think he had given her a piece of his favorite candy! What a terrible waste.

As they dashed out of the castle, hidden behind one of the tall rocks was Iris Malfoy herself, flanked by her cronies.

"Look at him blubber!" she exclaimed in glee, laughing loudly alongside Crabbe and Goyle.

The Golden Trio skidded into a stop, barely a foot away from the Slytherins. From Hagrid's Hut, they could already hear the gentle half-giant's noisy cries, begging to at least spare Buckbeak's life while he willingly resigned.

"Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic?" Malfoy spat, an ugly sneer on her pretty face. "And he's supposed to be our teacher!"

Crabbe and Goyle snickered in unision.

Harry growled. "This little – "

"You foul," Hermes started with a snarl, stomping angrily towards the Slytherins, "loathsome, evil little cockroach!"

He had reached her by then, staring down at her with as much hatred as he could muster. There was brief surprise in Iris' eyes, before she schooled her emotions until all that was left was her irritating smirk.

"Granger," she said, "come to see the show?"

His hands shook with unsuppressed anger, which wasn't left unnoticed by Iris. The Slytherin slowly looked back into his honey-colored eyes. "Go ahead, Granger," she drawled, challenge in her eyes. " _Hit me_."

He still hadn't forgiven her little slap back in second year. His cheek stung for days, her pure hate tingling his skin. But he knew physical violence wasn't the answer. His mother always told him that in order to resolve a problem, mouths should be used, not fists. _And_ , Iris Malfoy, no matter how loathsome and evil she was, was still a bloody girl. Hermes had vowed even at a very young age that if he were to resort to physical violence, it wouldn't be towards a girl.

"Scared, Granger?"

Something in him snapped as he glowered and pulled out his wand from his robe pocket. As quick as lightning, the wand tip was pressed against her pointy chin. He could hear his mother chiding him, but insistently pushed her aside. He had decided right there and then hurtling spells wouldn't count as physical violence.

It gave him the satisfaction to see that nervousness seeped through her ice cold glare.

"Scared, Malfoy?" he mocked. Malfoy's eyes turned steely, lifting her chin higher and silently daring him to hex her.

"Come on, mate, she's not worth it," Harry said, gripping his arm. Hermes stood his ground but finally relented when Ron started to pull him away from her, too.

"One day, Malfoy," he swore. "One day you're going to get the karma you deserve."

A scowl formed on her face when he finally allowed his best friends to pull him away.

His back facing from her, Iris released a soft, cruel laugh. "I always knew you were a ninny, Granger."

"That's it!"

Hermes turned around and before anyone could blink, he swung his fist and hit the closest thing beside Iris. It was unfortunately Goyle's nose, said Slytherin now crumpled on the ground and cradling his bleeding, broken nose. Malfoy's eyes were as wide as saucers, clearly not expecting that.

"Hermes!" Ron exclaimed, surprise and awe mingling in his voice.

"Thank the heavens above you're a bloody girl, Malfoy," Hermes snapped. Then, reaching out for his wand once more, he pointed it at Goyle's broken nose and murmured an angry, " _Episkey_ ". Goyle wailed in pain again, but the bleeding had stopped and his nose wasn't crooked anymore.

Malfoy composed herself and gave him the darkest glare. She stomped away and barked Crabbe and Goyle to follow, not giving the Golden Trio another glance back.

"Bloody _fucking_ hell, Hermes!" Ron gushed out, a huge, surprised grin on his face. "I didn't know you had it in you."

"Merlin, that felt good," he confessed, almost feeling regretful for saying such words. He looked at his hand and tried to curl it into a fist, but blinding pain shot from his knuckles up to his shoulders. He hissed in pain and cradled it to his chest. "But I think I broke my hand. I don't think a simple _Episkey_ would heal it."

"Come on, mate, let's go to the Hospital Wing," Harry suggested.

Hermes' eyes darted at Hagrid's Hut. "But Buckbeak… and Hagrid." Harry was already shaking his head.

"We still have a few hours before Buckbeak's supposed execution," the raven-haired Gryffindor insisted. "Let's get you fixed up first before we go to Hagrid. I'm sure it wouldn't take long."

Hermes sighed and finally relented. "Fine," he said. He flinched once more when pain shot up to his arm. " _Merlin Almighty_ , this is painful."

Harry released a laugh and clapped him on his shoulder. "You were bloody brilliant back there," he pointed out.

A grin, albeit a pained one, grew on Hermes' face. "I was, wasn't I?" he asked.

* * *

Hermes longingly looked over his shoulder, Hogwarts growing smaller and smaller as they neared the carriages that would bring them to Hogwarts Express.

Third year had finally come to an end. The whirlwind of surprises still caught him off guard as he reminisced the last few months of their third year. Hermes wasn't quite sure which one was the most shocking of them all – that Sirius was actually Harry's godfather and had been searching him to explain his side or Ron's beloved pet rat was actually Peter Pettigrew in Animagus form. The latter part was admittedly the most humorous, now that he properly thought about it. He knew Ron still hadn't gotten over the shock that the pet rat he had loved and showered countless affection ever since he was young was in fact a grown man and a _traitor_.

"I'm going to miss Hogwarts," Harry mournfully murmured. Hermes gave him a sympathetic glance, knowing he'd have another terrible summer care of the Dursleys.

"We'll Owl you, mate," Ron promised with a sad smile, patting Harry on the back.

"You can come visit," Hermes suggested, but Harry was already shaking his head.

"I don't want to impose," he replied. Before Hermes could protest, Harry continued, "Besides, I think Dumbledore doesn't like me spending summers away from the Dursleys."

Hermes frowned. "What? Why?" he asked.

"He didn't outright say it, but he discouraged any activities that would separate me from the Dursleys for more than a day," Harry grumbled. "Dumbledore never tells me anything."

The curly-haired Gryffindor nodded his head, wondering how many more secrets their Headmaster was keeping from them.

" _Wait_ , but the Quidditch World Cup will be this August!" Ron exclaimed with wide eyes. "You can't miss this! Yes, even you, Hermes."

Hermes groaned. Ron had been yammering about it nonstop ever since it was announced and had assumed they would be coming with him.

"Well, now that you mention it, maybe I can Owl Professor Dumbledore or something," Harry said, hope shining in his green eyes.

Before they could talk about it further, Iris Malfoy with Crabbe and Goyle stood in front of them.

There was accusation in her eyes. "I know you had something to do about Sirus Black and the stupid hippogriff's escape," she snarled.

"Where the bloody hell did you get that idea?" Harry asked, crossing his arms across his chest.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed into thin slits. "When something bad happens, of course the Golden Trio are always behind it," she bit back.

Well, she wasn't entirely wrong. Hermes' neck felt strangely empty, now that he didn't have the Time-Turner slung across his neck. He regretfully surrendered it to McGonagall before they left for summer, but he knew it was for the best. Now that both Harry and Ron knew how he was able to breeze through _all_ of the subjects he took up this school-year, he didn't doubt that they'd force him to use the Time-Turner for more dangerous shenanigans. The Invisibility Cloak and Marauder's Map already let them get away with almost everything. Hermes didn't want them breaking more roles in the name of adventure.

"You really do have a wild imagination, Malfoy," Hermes coolly said. Her grey eyes snapped at him. "Can we all just go on our merry ways? It's the start of summer, for Merlin's sake."

She stood at her fullest height and stared him down. "If I discovered that you lot are behind this, my father will – "

"Will what?" Hermes cut off. "'Hear about this'?" He rolled his eyes when her cheeks turned into red due to fury. "That's old news, Malfoy, and we don't really care. I do hope you'll have a brilliant summer, though, and not think about us too much."

His eyes swept at her silent cronies and smirked. "How's the nose, Goyle?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow. The burly Slytherin paled and looked away.

Malfoy bristled and stalked away, closely followed by her so-called friends.

"Merlin, Hermes, you can be really terrifying if you wanted to, you know," Ron said, snickering under his breath. "Did you see Goyle's face? Classic!"

"I don't really understand why Iris Malfoy is using all of her energy to terrorize us," Hermes said with a sigh. If she'd directed that energy to studying, maybe she might finally topple him from being the top of their class. Emphasis on 'might', of course.

Harry absentmindedly rubbed his scar and frowned. "You act really differently when Malfoy's bullying us," he pointed out.

Hermes frowned and looked at his shorter friend. "Whatever do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean," Harry continued, "you're all smiles and warmth and _Merlin_ , people call your hugs as _the_ Hug of Warmth. And you get irritated with us all the time, but you're never… you're never _that_ hostile. Unless with Malfoy."

"Malfoy's evil, Harry," Ron explained. "Of course even our swotty best friend would become all antagonistic when that little shite opens her bloody mouth."

"Well, that's true, too," Harry said with a shrug.

That was the end of their conversation and Ron and Harry quickly moved on to discuss the latest stats on International Quidditch. Hermes tuned them out and instead dwelled on Harry's words a while.

His behavior really changed every time he interacted with Iris Malfoy. Truthfully, he hated himself the most when he was interacting with Malfoy. He couldn't help but feel that she actually brought out the worst in him, and Hermes didn't like it one bit.

As they clambered inside the carriages, Hermes firmly vowed to himself that he would avoid Iris Malfoy at all cost next school-year. If it meant he had to ignore her insults, then so be it. He didn't want to stoop down to her level any longer.


	4. Fourth Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to retain the genders of all the other characters except Hermione and Draco, so I've tweaked this chapter a bit just to suit the plot. Enjoy! Thank you for the kudos and the comments, dearies. I've appreciated them all :)

Of course he should have anticipated this. His past three years in Hogwarts were enough proof that nothing had ever gone according to his plan. Hermes Granger just wanted to _diligently_ study for his lessons now that he was in his fourth year, but being best friends with Harry Potter did not really give him the luxury.

A wide yawn tore away from his mouth as Hermes stretched a little. It amused him immensely that because of the Triwizard Tournament, fewer students now go to the library to study. He still couldn't accept the fact that Dumbledore had to cancel some academic activities and exams just to accommodate the thrilling events of the said tournament. But then again, with two House Champions competing in a dangerous game that could potentially result to death… _well_ , how could they really study at all?

It was still a mystery to him how Harry was chosen as the Fourth Champion. Cedric Diggory was already a perfect choice, the poster boy of Hogwarts' brilliance and strength, so it was suspicious the Goblet of Fire chose another Champion from their school. Although he understood that the magic used to make the Goblet of Fire was extensive, it was ridiculous how they never thought of such loophole. Now, Harry had to compete in such a deadly completion because the goblet said so.

Sighing, he glanced at a book he was reading on dragons. Hagrid had secretly showed Harry what his first task would be, which Hermes knew was totally unfair to the other champions but absolutely necessary to keep Harry alive. Ever since then, he had been trying to research on dragons to aide Harry during his First Task.

He wanted to ask help from Ron, but he'd been a huge tosser ever since Harry was named Fourth Champion. Ron couldn't accept that someone was framing Harry; the only acceptable reason why Harry was chosen was _of course_ The-Boy-Who-Lived wanted all the glory once more. Ron had avoided them both, for Merlin's sake, and Hermes was too busy keeping Harry alive to concern himself with his other, stupid best friend.

"Merlin, Granger, have you no life?"

His hands stilled, slowly lifting his eyes to see a bemused Iris Malfoy standing in front of his desk. Her hair was held back by a green headband and he wasn't really sure if he was imaging things but was her lips extra glossy today? Ever since school started, there was something different about Malfoy this time. Sure she'd grown taller and all but there was something _else_.

"What do you want?" he coolly asked, trying to breathe through his nose to calm his suddenly racing heart. He mentally berated himself for getting all riled up with just her mere presence. He promised at the end of third year he'd push away such antagonistic feelings away from his heart just to be the better man between the two of them. _But_ , Merlin Almighty, Malfoy always went out of her way to bother him.

"Dragons? Really?" she asked, sitting down on the vacant seat across from him, uninvited. "What? No Potions essay to finish? No Transfiguration spell to practice?"

"Bugger off," he murmured with a deep frown.

Of course, she didn't listen to him. Instead, she placed her pointy chin on top of her palm and smirked. "So, is it really true Potter tricked the Goblet of Fire?" she innocently asked.

"Nobody can trick the Goblet of Fire," he reminded her. "Much less a fourteen-year-old."

"True," she said, flicking her silky hair over one shoulder, "but how can you explain that Hogwarts has another champion? I wouldn't be surprised if Potter went out of his way to bring the attention back to him."

Hermes expelled a humongous sigh. "Merlin, I'm sure you don't believe that codswallop," he said, closing the book he was reading on and grabbing another.

"Of course Potter's too stupid to accomplish something as advanced as tricking the Goblet of Fire," she said, her steely grey eyes landing on him. " _You_ , however…"

The Gryffindor lifted an eyebrow. "Were you just complimenting me, Malfoy?" he asked, amused.

She narrowed her eyes. "How did you do it?" she asked.

"Do what?"

"Trick the goblet," she elaborated.

"Look, Malfoy, as much as it _thrills_ me to know that you actually acknowledge how brilliant I am," he drawled, smiling at how she rolled her eyes, "I don't think I have enough knowledge to breach its wards. You've seen how even the more intelligent, well-equipped seventh years were unable to trick it."

"So… only a wizard powerful enough can do so," Iris murmured, drumming her manicured nails on the table top.

"Yes," he concurred.

"Hmm…" Her eyes looked out at the window of the library, gazing at the students milling around the Hogwarts grounds on this lazy day.

"What the hell are you still doing here, Malfoy," he shot back in confusion.

Iris took a humongous sigh and drew her eyes back at him. "I'm bored," she confessed with a shrug of her shoulders.

"So… you came to the library to what? Torment me?"

Her infamous smirk flitted briefly on her face. "Yes. Probably," she offhandedly said.

Hermes completely pulled away from the book he was reading and gave her an annoyed frown. "Why do you always torment me?" he asked, wanting to hear her answer once and for all. True he was a mudblood and he was bloody beneath her in every way, but he wasn't the only pathetic mudblood out there. Maybe being Harry Potter's best friend was an added bonus, but _still_. She wasn't this persistently antagonistic with Harry!

"You make it too easy, Granger," she finally answered, a hint of sincerity in the tone of her voice. "I knew which buttons to press… what feathers to ruffle." Her smirk came back full-force. "You're like a bloody open book. You wear your heart on your sleeve. It… it _grates_ me."

"Grates you?" he echoed, eyebrows flying through his forehead.

"Yeah, _grates_ me," she emphasized. "Rubs me the wrong way."

"Hmm…" he said, copying her stance and placing his chin on top of his open palm. "Unlike _others_ I can identify, I really have nothing to hide, Malfoy."

The glance he gave her was meaningful, which wasn't left unnoticed by the Slytherin. The surprising peacefulness on her face turned scornful, and Hermes sighed in disappointment once more. He had once again awakened the Dragon.

"I have nothing to hide," she snapped, eyes turning into slits.

"Sure, whatever you say," he nonchalantly said as he looked once more at the text he was reading.

She made an irritated sound at the back of her throat and stood up from the chair. "Whatever, I'm leaving," she quipped. "And good luck helping Potter in his first task. The bastard's brain capacity can only accommodate Quidditch and being stupid generally so I won't be surprised if he was the first champion to die."

A light bulb lit in his mind. "You're right!" he exclaimed. "You're _absolutely_ right." Harry was brilliant at _Quidditch_ , so they could use that to their advantage.

"I am?" Malfoy asked, her eyebrows knitting in confusion.

Hermes was already scanning through his Charms book to notice Malfoy's eye roll and consequent departure. Upon seeing the Summoning Charm, he grinned and proceeded to practice its theory and wand movement.

* * *

The First Task flew by without much of a hitch, except for some singed hair and a burnt finger. But other than that, Harry Potter emerged out very much alive and, to Hermes' amusement, _leading_ the whole fight. The other three Champions were undeniably powerful, but Harry's brilliant plan of pursuing the Golden Egg was equal parts maddening and exhilarating. No wonder the media was sensationalizing his lucky brush with death.

Now, with the end of the First Task, Hermes had no choice but to help Harry with his Second Task. Ron was still being an absolute prat about all of it so Hermes did not even bother asking him to help. Harry desperately wanted to accompany him to the library, but nasty rumors about him kept on resurfacing on The Daily Prophet care of Rita Skeeter. For the life of them, they still hadn't discovered why some of her observations were _scarily_ accurate and decided that Harry showed his face around Hogwarts as less as possible.

Hermes glanced at the book in his hands, titled _'101 Magical Eggs and Their Surprises_ ' and wasn't entirely sure if it was the right book after all. There could be a huge possibility that the egg was spelled to hold that atrocious screeching for them to decipher. Still, it didn't hurt to try.

The chair across from him screeched, disturbing his reading, and honestly he almost found it laughable that Iris Malfoy came by on the dot, too. He half-expected to see her shiny hair and that smirky face of hers, but when his honey-colored eyes settled on the intruder, his mouth flew open.

Across from him sat the French Beauty, Fleur Delacour. Her own blonde hair was left untied over her shoulders and he swore they were even shining with every small movement she made. Their baby blue uniform really complemented her fair skin and blue blue _blue_ eyes and Hermes found himself suddenly thinking of nothing else but her sheer beauty as he expelled a deep, contented sigh.

"'ello," the older witch greeted with a dazzling smile.

Her voice that sounded like a choir of angels washed over his form, prompting him to sigh once again. When Fleur quirked an eyebrow, he finally got a hold of himself and shook awake. His cheeks reddened and he finally broke his gaze away from the pretty blonde.

Up close, he now firmly believed that she was, in some way, a _Veela_. The scary powers she had that made him think stupidly was acting up once again and Hermes refused to be placed under her spell.

"I 'ave a proposal to make, 'Ermes Granger," she continued with her heavily accented voice.

His eyes widened. "You know my name?" he asked, surprised.

"Of course," she replied matter-of-factly. "Brightest wizard of 'is age. You are quite famous too, little Gryffindor. 'Arry Potter's muggleborn best friend."

Hermes frowned, growing a little suspicious, and looked at her at the corner of his eyes. She was absolutely ethereal, and sans the Veela powers, she was actually really pretty to look at. Still, Hermes didn't trust beautiful girls like Fleur and… and _Malfoy_ – ' _Right_ , _where the hell did that come from?'_ he mentally asked himself, and shook his head again. Perhaps, he was still partially under her Veela spell.

"I-I'm sorry," he stammered, "but I think you're lost." His eyes widened a little when she released a breathy laugh that sounded exactly like tinkering bells. "Bloody hell, you really are a Veela."

He didn't mean to say the last part aloud. After all, it was merely speculation and he didn't want to offend Fleur.

When she still hadn't replied to his earlier rude comment, he surreptitiously glanced at her to see that she was grinning widely, _too_ widely, and he was very confused.

"I knew it," she gleefully snapped back, eyes twinkling a tad bright.

"Excuse me?" Hermes said, frowning at her forehead. He realized that if he didn't look at her pretty eyes, his mind wouldn't become too much of a jumbled mess of incoherent blubbers.

"You knew about it," she simply stated. "You figured about it zan ze others."

He absentmindedly scratched his chin. "Well, it wasn't too hard to notice that scary powers you release every time you're in the vicinity so…" He sheepishly smiled, realizing he had described her Veela powers as scary, but Fleur merely laughed again.

"I'm actually a quarter-Veela," she explained. "But it was enough to 'ave ze so-called 'scary powers' zat you speak of."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend," he said, but she merely waved her hand in dismissal.

"Not wrong," she said, her tongue rolling awkwardly due to speaking a different language that wasn't her own. "Besides, I ' _ate_ it."

Hermes' eyes widened. "You hate being a Veela?" he asked, surprised. From what he'd seen from afar, he honestly thought Fleur Delacour was basking under all the attention she was receiving, unwanted or not. The students' attention to her almost rivalled their awe at seeing Viktor Krum, the _very same_ Quidditch International Star, strolling along the corridors of Hogwarts. Harry and Ron may still not be on speaking terms, but both blokes were practically salivating when Viktor Krum was within sight. It was laughable, really.

"Ze people only see me as a Veela," she said with a grave nod. "Not as me."

"Oh," he said with sympathetic nod. "That makes sense. I'm very sorry about that."

She daintily shook her hand again in dismissal. "Doesn't matter," she quipped. "As I've said, I 'ave a proposal."

Curiosity now reigned as he pushed his useless book away and gave her all of his attention. "About what?" he asked.

She drew out her wand, which prompted him to clutch his own out of instincts. Fleur didn't seem to notice as she waved her wand with a flourish, spoke a spell that sounded French, then smiled.

"What was that?" he asked with a frown.

"To stop ze other students from hearing," she explained.

Hermes' eyes widened. "Like a _Muffliato_?" he asked, suddenly interested. He'd never heard spells spoken in French before, though he'd come across them in other books.

"Something like zat," she said, recognizing the spell. "But it's weird if I use zat 'ere, no? In ze _bibliotheque_. Zere will be no buzzing sound with zis spell."

He nodded his head, absolutely concurring. "Nifty," he said with an impressed smile. "You have to teach me that."

"Some other time," she said. "Ze proposal."

"Right, okay go on."

She prettily smiled once more and leaned forward. "I will 'elp with ze Golden Egg for 'Arry Potter," she started. "In exchange, you 'ave to go to ze Yule Ball with me."

Hermes eyes widened. "I'm sorry," he slowly started, "but I think I haven't heard you right. You want _me_ to come with _you_ to the _Yule Ball_."

She nodded her head vigorously. "Oui, oui," she said with a pleased smile.

If it were more possible, his eyes almost popped out of their sockets. "But… but I don't understand," he asked, feeling flustered all of a sudden. "I mean… I mean you're really pretty, Fleur, no offense – "

"None taken," she said with a laugh, looking at him with amusement.

" – and if you must know, I'm not exactly err… _suited_ to be your Yule Ball partner," he blubbered out. "I mean, look at _me_."

"I am good-looking for ze both of us," she assured very confidently. "It doesn't matter."

"But why?" he asked, still thinking everything was too surreal to make sense of it.

Fleur sighed, a flitter of irritation crossing her pretty face. "Because," she started, "it would be such a bother to choose among ze other boys. I told you, zey only want to be with me because of my Veela magic. At least with you, you already know of my… 'eritage."

"You can always tell them, you know," he offered with a sympathetic smile.

She looked down on the table top with a sad smile on her face. "Zey will think differently of me," she confessed. "Like a… a _lycanthrope_ but instead makes you pretty."

His heart was being swayed, that much he knew. "Just because you're a Veela doesn't make you any less of a human," Hermes comforted.

Fleur looked at him once more, the blinding smile now stretched widely on her face. "Zat is why I knew you should be my Yule Ball partner," she said, gaining the confidence she had always exuded. When Hermes made another move to protest, Fleur lifted her hand. "Zink of 'Arry Potter."

The fourth year Gryffindor chewed on his bottom lip, deep in thought. Her clue could be useful, after all. It still made him very nervous what the Second Task would be. Fighting dragons for the First Task was already dangerous. He didn't doubt that the Second Task would be difficult either. And… _well_ , it wasn't fair too because Fleur lamented how she hated being a Veela because of how they were still regarded in this society. True, being a Veela was way easier than being a werewolf or a house-elf in the Wizarding World. Still, they were regarded as a lesser form of humans and Hermes could not just accept that.

When he expelled a huge sigh, Fleur's eyes lit up, hopeful. "Oh, all right," he finally said, flinching when the seventh year Beauxbatons student released a soft squeal in excitement. "So, the Second Task then?"

Fleur nodded, the smile still on her face. "Ze egg," she started, "tell 'Arry Potter to listen to ze song underwater."

"It's a song?" Hermes asked in disbelief. He clearly remembered the awful screeching that filled the whole Common Room when Harry opened it once.

"Mermaids," she simply said.

The Gryffindor's jaw dropped. "Of course!" he exclaimed, remembering that the song of merpeople would be coherent underwater. Of course they would be a series of babbles and screeching when heard above water. "It makes sense, blimey." He gave her a large grin. "Thank you, Fleur. You've been really helpful."

"Likewise, little Gryffindor," she said. Hermes felt his cheeks heating with embarrassment, a small sheepish smile blooming on his face.

She pulled out her wand again and muttered a soft _Finite_.

"See you at ze Yule Ball, 'Ermes," she said, already rising from her seat. She bid him a cheerful goodbye and Hermes watched, a little mesmerized at how her hair glittered under the sunlight scattering into the library.

Shaking himself out of his daze, Hermes immediately gathered his things, intent on relaying the new clue to Harry as soon as possible.

* * *

Hermes released a loud whoop when Harry emerged from the freezing water of the Black Lake and dragged an unconscious Ron Weasley onto the plank. The gillyweed he swallowed a while ago was now losing its effect while Ron woke up and coughed out the water he'd ingested.

The curly-haired Gryffindor bounded down the bleachers to meet his best friends, but to his surprise, Harry dove back in.

He quickly collapsed near Ron, a towel now wrapped around his shivering form, and asked, "Why the hell did Harry return to the water?"

"Fleur's" – he coughed more water – "sister."

Upon the mention of the Beauxbatons Champion, Hermes' eyes landed on Fleur's distraught form, blubbering about her sister. Madame Maxime's expression was a mixture of sympathy and disappointment – sympathy for the worried blonde and disappointment because Fleur was unable to finish the Second Task.

A few minutes after, Harry reemerged, this time dragging a young blonde that resembled Fleur.

"Gabrielle!" she wailed, zooming out from her Headmistress' arms and gathering her sister into a relieved hug. "Oh, Gabrielle, _ma chère_."

Her sister slowly woke up and started to cough out water while Fleur draped a fluffy towel over her shoulder.

Then, to Harry, she placed two kisses of gratitude on each of his cheek, prompting the Boy-Who-Lived to turn into a brilliant shade of red.

"Lucky bastard," Ron murmured under his breath, earning a smack from Hermes.

"You were brilliant, Harry," Hermes said, giving him another red towel as Harry approached them.

Harry received it with thanks and frowned. "I arrived third," he said through chattering teeth.

"We weren't really in danger, you know," Ron quipped, unable to look into Harry's eyes. "If you left Fleur's sister, you could have been first."

Hermes quietly stared at his other best friends, wondering if they would finally, _finally_ make up.

When Ron went missing an hour before the competition, Harry grew worried but Hermes already had an inkling when he heard that Cho Chang also disappeared. He couldn't help but roll his eyes when Dumbledore then announced the Second Task but there was a tiny part in his heart that clenched a little bit, knowing he wasn't the most important person in Harry's life. But that was quite all right, _really_. Ever since he was eleven, he knew Ron Weasley would always be Harry's very first best friend.

"Thanks, mate," Ron then said, awkwardly scratching his nose and looking anywhere but Harry.

Hermes released a humongous sigh. "Just bloody apologize, Ronald," he grumbled.

The redhead turned into a bright shade of red and glowered at Hermes. "What for?" he shot back.

"For being a bloody wanker, for starters?" Harry offered, an innocent smile on his smile.

Ron froze for a moment before he slumped in shame. "I had been one, yeah?" he said. When Hermes and Harry simultaneously nodded their heads, the redhead released a sigh. "I'm sorry, Harry, for being a total tosser." He hesitantly outstretched his hand. "Brothers through and through?"

The redhead smiled widely when Harry clasped his arm. "Brothers through and through," Harry echoed with a smile of his own.

" _Finally_ ," Hermes exclaimed, draping both of his arms over their wet shoulders. "It's utterly exhausting being your messenger Owl, you gits."

"You were brilliant at it, tho – OW! Hermes!" Ron rubbed his smarting chest and glowered at him once more. "I was just unconscious for an hour and that's how you treat your best friend? Mental, you really are."

Hermes grinned and just pulled them closer to himself, happy that the Golden Trio was whole once more.

* * *

There was a terrible rumor going around that Fleur Delacour was taking _Hermes Granger_ to the Yule Ball.

Fleur Delacour – practically a goddess with blue eyes, blonde, shimmery hair – taking _Hermes Granger_ – frumpy, gangly, mudblood, annoying, stick up his arse, know-it-all, swot – to the Yule Ball.

Fleur Delacour. _Hermes Granger_. Yule Ball.

Even though Iris repeated it in her head over and over again, it never made sense. How could someone so beautiful, with suitors lining up the hallways of Hogwarts, take the plain, annoying Gryffindor?

No sense. At all.

Fleur was flawless and Iris was actually envious how she always looked so well-kempt, even though she was fighting a dragon or rescuing her sister. Her blonde hair could never be that shiny; Iris had to spend the rest of summer practicing beauty spells with Pansy before fourth year started. She had to spell a cushioning charm to her high-heeled shoes, now that she insisted to Narcissa it was fine time to ditch those stupid kitten heels. She had to spend a lot of time in front of the mirror to make her make-up look _effortless_ , like she wasn't trying too hard. Pansy was going all out, much to her disgruntlement. It wasn't classy, not at all, but Pansy had been receiving the attention from boys she craved so her pug-faced friend didn't mind one bit.

Then Fleur Delacour came and Iris wondered what spells she used just to make herself perfect at all times. Perhaps, if she learned the Beauxbatons Champion's secret to perfection, Iris could use it on her and make her father just a little prouder of her.

So, she couldn't really understand how such a rumor came about. She was just casually biting a green apple, lazily sashaying around the hallways of Hogwarts just to search for something to do, when she spied Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil giggling to themselves. The duo was infamously known for their gossips, three-fourths of them untrue. Still, if you wanted to know the latest rumor, the fourth year Gryffindors were their go-to persons.

Iris contemplated on messing up Brown's perfectly curled hair just for the fun of it. But when she heard Granger's name, she faltered and deftly hid behind an alcove. Just to eavesdrop incriminating rumors that she could use to Granger in the future, of course.

" – can't believe that Fleur Delacour is taking Hermes to the Yule Ball!" Parvati prattled excitedly, disbelief in her eyes. "I mean, it's _Fleur Delacour_."

By then, Iris' eyes had grown into saucers, disbelieving herself.

"Well, we can't deny that Hermes had grown _really_ tall over the summer," Lavender said with a dreamy sigh. "He's practically the same height with Ron. He isn't half-bad himself."

"True," Parvati said with a reverent nod. " _Still_ , if Fleur really wants to take someone from the Golden Trio, Hermes Granger would definitely be the last resort."

Lavender giggled and nodded excitedly. "Right?" she said. "I mean, he's so intelligent and brilliant yada yada yada, but Ron's like super cute with the freckles on his nose and don't even get me started with Harry Potter! He's the Boy-Who-Lived, for Merlin's sake! No offense to Hermes, but he's the one that stands out the least."

"But he does give _wonderful_ hugs," Parvati pointed out.

The blonde released another dreamy sigh, a stupid smile on her face. "Merlin, he really does," she concurred.

Iris gagged and immediately moved away, unable to stand their conversation any longer. How could they think Hermes Granger stood out the least? Weasley and Potter were total buffoons, tossers in their own right! At least Granger had an intelligent head on top of those broad shoulders and he could carry a witty conversation that admittedly didn't bore her to tears…

Realizing what she was thinking, Iris scowled and stomped away. It was only when she spied Madame Pince when she realized she was in the Hogwarts Library.

Iris stilled for a moment, wondering why in Merlin's name was she in the library, then decided once and for all to confirm if the rumor about Hermes Granger and Fleur Delacour was true.

She spied him somewhere near the Herbology section after minutes of searching. One thing she discovered about Granger was that he never stayed put in the library. One week he'd be buried behind thick tomes of books near the Transfiguration section, and the next week he'd be writing his essays near the Defense Against the Dark Arts section.

It was so annoying, his constant transfer of tables. Why couldn't he be like Blaise who liked to study at the left side most of the library, near one of its humongous windows, just beside the Potions section? Searching for him wouldn't be that hard then.

Granger stood up from his table and disappeared behind one of the bookshelves. Iris determinedly stomped closer, her _painful_ heels clicking and clacking against the stone floor, until she finally reached him. He was crammed between two towering bookshelves, mostly about books on bubotuber pus.

The Slytherin rolled her eyes. Typical Granger. He was already starting his Herbology essay that wasn't due until _after_ the Yule Ball.

"Granger," she called out. The Gryffindor stilled and looked down at her, surprise flitting in his eyes.

"Malfoy," he said with a tired sigh. "I don't understand why you always go the library when you're not even studying in it."

She slid in front of him so now she was sandwiched between the towering bookshelf and his towering form. _Merlin_ , was it crampy. "I heard a stupid rumor," she blurted out before she chickened out and left. Iris didn't understand why she was suddenly becoming nervous and all. "Loads of bollocks, in my honest opinion."

His eyebrows knitted together in careful calculation. There was a part in Iris that felt like Granger already knew what she would say.

"Fleur Delacour asked you to be her date for the Yule Ball," she said in a rush, then bursting into nervous, quiet laughter afterwards. Voicing it aloud sounded wonderfully ridiculous in her ears. "I mean, that's bloody rich, Granger!"

To her surprise, his frown deepened. In fact, Granger looked angrier. "I was hoping that stupid thing won't spread around this early," he grumbled through gritted teeth.

Her jaw dropped in sheer astonishment, not minding how unbecoming of a Malfoy she might have looked. "Bloody Merlin, it is true!" she accused.

Hermes glared down at her. "Here to tell me I'm not worthy of being beautiful Fleur Delacour's date for the Yule Ball, are you?" he snapped.

"Yes! You're not! I mean look at you!" she all but shrieked.

"First of all, Malfoy, this is a bloody library and you can't go all shrieky here," he murmured in disgruntlement. "Second, this is a _bloody library_ so if you do not intend to study here, then you should really just go. And last, save whatever insults you have in your mind. I've heard them all."

He gave her a withering glare. "If you like, you can go to Fleur Delacour herself and count all the ways I'm not good enough for her," he snappishly continued. "Merlin knows you aren't the first one."

Iris was still staring up at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. "Well, _Gra_ – "

Her words were left dangling when Hermes suddenly leaned forward, effectively trapping her between him and the bookshelf behind her. Merlin Almighty, Brown wasn't kidding when she said Granger was unbelievably tall. Last time she tormented him, he was the same height as hers. Now, she couldn't look into his eyes without craning her neck a bit.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she shrilly asked, not entirely sure why it was suddenly too warm and she couldn't properly breathe.

Granger looked at her strangely and she stilled, his nose lightly brushing against her forehead. Her heart sped up, her breath coming out in quick, small puffs, before Granger fully pulled away, a new book in his hand.

"I was getting a book and you're in the way," he pointed out matter-of-factly, curiously glancing at her warm cheeks. Then, with a frown, he slipped away from the crampy bookshelf and back to his desk.

It took a moment for Iris to finally breathe normal again and for her heart to resume its normal pace.

* * *

Although he had been dreading the Yule Ball for days, Hermes couldn't deny the rush of excitement he felt as he looked at his reflection. His other roommates already went away to fetch their dates. It still amused him that his best friends would be taking the Patil twins. Harry lamented how he wanted to ask Cho, but Cedric Diggory already beat him to it. And well, _Ron_.

Now that he and Harry had made up, Ron poured almost all of his energy accusing Hermes of bewitching Fleur Delacour. Harry had thankfully didn't mind; he only thought the whole thing was ridiculously hilarious. Ron, on the other hand, was still in disbelief that the Beauxbatons beauty asked him to be her date and not the other way around.

" _Do you honestly think she'd ask you, Ronald?"_ Hermes snapped one time when he was at his tipping point. Ron glared at him darkly and didn't talk to him for the rest of the night. He loved his best mates all right, but Ronald Weasley could be a jealous prat if he wanted to.

Shaking such annoying thoughts from his mind, Hermes stood straighter and smoothed his navy blue robes. He proudly looked at his bushy hair, tamed into soft curls thanks to Lavender Brown's help. He hadn't really minded his hair before, thought that it was one of his defining features and loved it immensely. But since he was bringing probably the most beautiful woman to the Yule Ball tonight, might as well look the part and at least match her in some ways.

With his tamer curly hair parted in an elegant way, he thought he actually looked decent.

He gave himself a once over before finally leaving the Gryffindor Common Room.

The hallways were already deserted, seeing that it was already curfew for the younger students while the older ones were most likely in the Great Hall already. He smiled a little when he heard excited chatter from the said hall.

Hermes stepped out of the main doors and strode towards the huge carriage where the Beauxbatons students currently stayed. He marveled at the magnificent palamino horses, petted one on the nose along the way, before knocking on the carriage door.

It opened after his third knock. His eyes widened, beholding Fleur in an elegant grey dress.

"You're late," she tutted. She glanced at him from head to toe before a small smile appeared on her face. "But you look 'andsome tonight, 'Ermes."

He blushed scarlet and held out his hand. The quarter Veela held onto his hand and daintily stepped down. "You don't look bad yourself, Fleur," he stumbled with an apologetic grin.

Fleur released a lovely laugh. "I am beautiful today, _idiot_ ," she confidently replied.

Hermes grinned and shook his head. Fleur could actually be arrogant if she wanted to, but the Gryffindor couldn't deny that she was a pleasant company. After their first encounter in the library, there were times when Fleur would accompany him in the library to study. She never once asked help from him for the Tasks, though, much to his relief. Ron had accused him one time of fraternizing with the enemy. Keeping Harry alive was top priority, but he knew he wouldn't be able to deny her if she asked for his help.

As they neared the Great Hall, Hermes suddenly felt a tad nervous. Fleur's hand was perched on his arm and, sensing his nervousness, she gave him a comforting squeeze.

"Half the student body, mostly boys really, will kill me just to be in my position," he joked, attempting to lighten the mood.

The way she laughed made him slightly relaxed. She gave him a knowing, secret smile, unbeknownst to him that Fleur was recalling a certain feisty blonde Slytherin that demanded to know why she had asked Hermes Granger, _of all people_ ,to be her date in the Yule Ball. It was comical, albeit endearing, how she proceeded to list down all the reasons why he wasn't worthy of her.

"I'm sure zere is someone who will kill me just to be in my position, too" she shot back.

Poor Hermes merely took it as her attempt to joke and laughed in return.

He finally pushed the door open and he descended with Fleur. Eyes instantly latched onto them, seeing that they were the last ones to come, and excited mutterings spread around the Great Hall like a wild fire.

Hermes couldn't help but puff out his chest in pride, a huge smile tearing away on his mouth, knowing that he was holding the most beautiful girl in this room.

The Great Hall was wonderful. Snow was spelled to fall from the ceiling, disappearing before it reached the ground. The four long tables were transfigured into smaller, round ones, scattered at the sides to leave an open space for dancing at the very middle. A humongous Christmas tree decorated with colorful baubles glinted at the front and beside it was a merry band with different instruments ready to blast some holiday cheer.

All in all, it was a winter wonderland and Hermes was mightily impressed with the advanced magic used to change their usually droll Great Hall into something enchanting.

He spotted Harry near the entrance, a pretty Padma Patil in his arms. The-Boy-Who-Lived gave him a brilliant smile and greeted Fleur with a blush.

"Sorry we're late," Hermes apologized. Professor Flitwick merely waved his hand in dismissal and gestured for the band to start their procession song.

They went into formation, with them at the very front. Viktor Krum and his Ravenclaw date came second, then Cedric Diggory with Cho Chang, and finally Harry Potter and one-half of the Patil twins.

Their procession marked the start of the Yule Ball, and as the song grew into an upbeat melody, many people started pulling their partners into the center of the hall for a dance.

Hermes couldn't recall when he had this much fun. Fleur kept on pulling him to the dance floor for dances; he suspected he was her safety blanket from boys who were prowling around, ready to pounce for an opportunity to keep the Veela alone. The Gryffindor didn't mind, though. Dancing with Fleur and laughing with her and her schoolmates was fun. Fleur was also an interesting date. Despite her blinding beauty due to her Veela scary powers, and her little arrogance with her looks, she actually was witty with a humor that could even make a frumpy bookworm laugh.

"Well someone's having fun," Ron grumbled when Hermes laughingly sauntered to their direction for a quick break. Fleur excused herself to go to the loo with the other girls, so Hermes could rest for a bit.

"Well someone's being a total wanker today," Hermes pointed out, raising an eyebrow at the silently fuming Parvati Patil.

The redhead glared and huffed in annoyance. Harry, on the other hand, smirked and clapped Hermes on the back.

"Congratulations on snagging the most beautiful woman in this Ball, mate," he said, absentmindedly passing a drink to his date, Padma, who was a little affronted with his comment.

Hermes smiled in bemusement. "I'm quite sure that is not entirely true for you, Harry," he said, a hint of teasing in his voice, as his eyes landed where Cho Chang was. Harry followed his line of vision and scowled upon seeing the Ravenclaw giggling over something Cedric Diggory had whispered against her ear.

"Shut up, Hermes," Harry grumbled, suddenly in a bad mood. He crossed his arms across his chest and looked away.

"Oh _honestly_ ," Parvati then shrieked. The three boys watched her with wide eyes as she shot up from her seat and pulled her twin sister away.

Hermes sheepishly glanced at their backs then looked at his best friends. Harry merely gave a shrug.

Ron rolled his eyes, muttered, "Girls. Bloody mental," under his breath and continued to brood.

Fleur came back and snagged him away. Hermes shot them an apologetic smile, but just earned identical glares from his best friends. _Merlin_ , they were being tossers tonight but at least he was having loads of fun.

"Would you like some refreshments, Fleur?" he asked after an upbeat song. He was parched after laughing too much.

The Beaxubatons beauty fondly patted his cheek. "Very thoughtful," she said with a pretty smile. "Zank you, 'Ermes."

He grinned and sauntered towards the refreshments table. He grabbed two glasses and happily scooped punch into them.

"Wipe that stupid grin off your face, Granger. You look _ridiculous_."

His smile faltered, recognizing Malfoy's annoying voice. Mentally, he promised that no one, not even bratty Malfoys, could ruin this night for him.

"Bugger off, Mal – "

No words escaped from his mouth as soon as his eyes landed on her. Malfoy was frowning down at the assorted snacks on the table, probably disgusted at how subpar they were compared to the usual delicacies offered during their Pureblood Balls back at the Malfoy Manor. Hermes felt his throat drying as he gazed down at her dress, elegant black in color with embroidered flowers at the skirt. Her usual straight blonde hair was perfectly curled, draped on one side of her shoulder and held off by a silver, gleaming flower tiara. Her lips were painted pink, eyes with a hint of color to highlight the silver of her eyes.

She was… she was…

Hermes forgot how to breathe.

Malfoy seemed to realize his lack of response for she diverted her gaze away from food and glanced at him.

"What the hell are you gaping at?" she snarled.

The air that went into his nostrils snapped him off his daze. Blood flooded his cheeks as he hastily grabbed onto their drinks and practically ran away from her as fast as possible.

Fleur was chatting with a pretty Ravenclaw brunette when Hermes finally went back to her side. He had downed his drink already just to calm his racing heart.

"Are you all right, 'Ermes?" she asked with that thick accent of hers. "You look a flushed."

His cheeks reddened more and downed the other drink until he was merely clutching two empty glasses.

Fleur raised an eyebrow, an amused smile on her face. Hermes' eyes widened and realized he drank _both_ of their drinks.

"Right, yes, I'm fine," he said.

The French woman chuckled and shook her head. "You can really be charming if you want to, little Gryffindor," she said, fondly patting his cheek. "Is zere someone in your 'eart? I zink you will be good to my sister Gabrielle, no? If you can wait for 'er to grow up."

"No one," he said a little too quickly. His cheeks reddened more. "In my heart… I mean, there's no one in my heart right now."

Fleur was still looking at him strangely before grabbing onto his arm to pull him back to the dance floor.

Surreptitiously, Hermes looked at the general direction where he knew Iris Malfoy was hanging out with her Slytherin friends, hand perched on Blaise Zabini's arm. To his surprise, _she_ was already looking at him with an indecipherable expression in her grey eyes. His eyes widened when Malfoy's cheeks blazed and immediately looked away, a scowl now painting her pretty face.

Hermes immediately looked away from Malfoy, his eyes connecting with Fleur's worried, blue ones. They were _way_ prettier than Malfoy's, and Fleur was nice, and good, and funny, and really, _really_ beautiful. But her hair didn't shine the right way, her lips not curled perfectly that complimented her smooth face, her eyes not bright enough.

Thoughts halted all together in his mind as his heart raced once more.

' _Don't think, don't think, don't think,'_ he continued as a mantra, knowing that if he'd dwelled on those thoughts more, he would land into a conclusion he wasn't ready to face.

* * *

The Great Hall was thick with grief as Dumbledore made his year-end speech in memory of Cedric Diggory.

Hermes glanced at the seat between him and Ron, Harry's absence a stark reminder of what had transpired during the Third Task.

He still remembered that night clear as the day. Harry's horrified screams, a dead Cedric Diggory in his arms, and the haunting green Dark Mark cast over the night sky. Just thinking about it again sent shivers down his spine.

Harry was screaming about Voldemort's return, his face a picture of pure terror Hermes had never seen him wear. The students had erupted in fearful whispers but most of them merely speculating that perhaps the Boy-Who-Lived had gone barmy because of Cedric's death.

" _Nasty accident, that one has been_ ," Cornelius Fudge said in an interview with the Daily Prophet. The whole ministry effectively stamped Harry as mental due to grief and had dismissed his claim of Voldemort's return all together. This had marginally calmed down the students of Hogwarts, knowing through their parents' stories and their Hogwarts lessons that Voldemort was already gone for good. They _knew_ that; Harry was testament to his demise. His return from the death was absolutely ridiculous.

But Harry… _oh_ , Harry was so adamant, insisting that he had seen Voldemort with his own eyes, that he was bloody back so why weren't they listening to him? Hermes had seen Cedric's dead form and although he had never seen someone hit by a Killing Curse in the flesh, the way his empty eyes gazed heavenward suggested his cause of death.

Hermes had a feeling that something great and evil was brewing. The mysterious attack of masked men during the Quidditch World Cup last year, with the green, menacing Dark Mark hovering overhead, was already testament that they were already going through some dark times.

Dumbledore believed Harry, much to Hermes' relief, because at least he wasn't the only one. His speech included an ominous warning, for them to be safe, for them to think of Cedric Diggory when the time came for them to choose between what is good and what is easy. Most of the students were talking amongst themselves in protest, firmly believing that even their Headmaster was nutters.

Fuming, in grief for his best friend and their denial, Hermes glanced at Ron. Thankfully, the redhead hadn't been a prat and believed Harry, too. Harry Potter needed support the most right now.

"I'm… I'm going to check up on Harry," Hermes said, suddenly feeling nauseous at their mocking faces.

Ron started to rise up from the bench, too, but Hermes shook his head and smiled. "Just stay here, Ronald," he said.

The redhead thankfully got the hint that Hermes wanted to be alone. Ron's face hardened but resolutely nodded his head, now shifting his gaze down at his empty plate, seemingly without any appetite at all.

Hermes immediately walked out, head bent down, unable to look at the other students. Harry… Harry needed a friend, and Hermes needed some peace of mind.

He stumbled out of the Great Hall only to collide with another person. He shot out his hand to clutch onto an arm to steady her.

"I'm sorry," he murmured hastily.

The arm he was holding tensed and he blinked, realizing it was Iris Malfoy he was holding on to.

"Bugger off, Granger," she murmured. She pulled her arm and walked towards the Slytherin table without a glance back.

Hermes, however, stood rooted on the spot. He wasn't entirely sure if he was imagining things or not, but there was definitely _terror_ in Malfoy's eyes. He shifted his gaze back at her, her back facing against him as she clutched a letter in her shaky hands.

Swallowing down a nervous lump, Hermes couldn't shake off the feeling that somehow, _someway_ , Malfoy's strange behavior was connected with Cedric Diggory's death.


	5. Fifth Year

Something had definitely changed.

Ever since she went home to the Malfoy Manor over summer, Iris already braced herself with this 'inevitable change' that her father had written to her on her last day in Hogwarts. He was being vague, always has been, but he hinted that there would be more visitors during her stay in Malfoy Manor and he expected her to be on her best behavior. As the sole heiress of the Malfoy family, he expected nothing _less_ than perfect from her.

Suffice to say, there was terror in her heart ever since. With Cedric Diggory's death coupled by Harry Potter's ridiculous, but _eerie_ , claim that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was back, _well_ … Iris wasn't stupid to deny that his father's strange letter was connected to all of it.

The Malfoys were highly regarded in the society, especially since they were one of the oldest Pureblood families and part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. She knew of her father's fascination in the Dark Arts but she'd been hearing rumors ever since she went to Hogwarts. Rumors that Lucius Malfoy had willingly allied himself with Voldemort during the First Wizarding War. Her father told her that he was _Imperio-d,_ that he had no choice, and Iris accepted that. Apparently, there were those who didn't believe Lucius' words. She had been adamantly defending Lucius ever since, because she knew her father wasn't _stupid_. Besides, he was a man of arrogance and pride! He answered to no one.

She had clung to that thought all throughout the Hogwarts Express ride home. By the time she walked out of the barrier between 9 and 10, she actually felt marginally better.

Her steps faltered when it was only her mother who came to escort her home.

" _Your father's been very busy for the past few days, Iris_ ," Narcissa Malfoy simply said.

The horror in her heart came back full force. Her father always, _always_ waited for her in King's Cross, no matter what time or how late it was in the day. _'Keeping up appearances'_ he always told her. At least he was there, no matter his ulterior motives. Iris knew her father hated being in public places teeming with mudbloods and filthy muggles after all.

For the next few days, she'd seen a flurry of her father, always accompanied with shady looking men she never thought he'd willingly associate himself with. Lucius Malfoy had a fair share of suspicious associates in the past, but there was an increase in number of wizards and witches screaming dark magic who just came to their pristine manor every day, without fail.

"What is going on, Mother?" Iris firmly asked one day in disgruntlement when Lucius failed to accompany them for afternoon tea for the umpteenth time. The blonde Slytherin glared at her tea, remembering all the days Lucius would get angry at her when she was a few minutes late for their tea time or her dress robes weren't appropriate enough.

Narcissa merely gave her a small smile. "Do not concern yourself with your father's affairs, Iris dear," she assured. "You are too young to understand." Then, she lifted the cup to her lips elegantly that Iris never seemed to perfect. Such peacefulness was shattered, however, when Iris pointedly noted how her mother's hand were shaking.

And then… and then, _he_ came.

She had seen him, from a great distance. She just finished doing her summer Potions homework in the vast Malfoy library and realized it was already late. As a yawn tore out from her mouth, she noticed a flurry of black robes and shuffling footsteps, all hastily going to their drawing room. The place had been off limits to her ever since she went home; it was where her father kept on bringing their guests over and Iris, although admittedly curious, never bothered to investigate.

But this time, it had gone too far. She rarely saw her father, her mother's pretend nonchalance was driving her insane, and she just needed some answers.

Hence, she waited behind a suit of armor that was centuries old until the noises had died down. She slipped quickly from the armor and spelled the drawing room to open slightly without making any noise.

Iris peered inside and recognized the familiar faces that had graced the Malfoy Manor for the past few weeks. Auntie Bella was cackling over something she bet wasn't even remotely funny. There were also other people scattered along the long table with questionable clothing; _really_ , how could her father stoop so low and associate himself with these kind of people? Lucius himself looked quite uncomfortable, but then he'd realize he was in company and school whatever emotions he had behind a mask of indifference.

Classic Malfoy trick.

And then… and then there was a voice. It was soft, but screamed command. Everybody fell silent instantly. Even her insane aunt had shut up, eyes a tad bright with excitement and curious adoration.

The voice was too soft for her to hear, and try as she might, she couldn't quite catch what he was saying. All she could see was how tensed everybody in the room became.

A man, who was most definitely a _werewolf_ , stepped aside and revealed an image born out of a nightmare. A snake-like man, pale as alabaster, stood tall and proud at the very front of the table. He had slits for a nose, his teeth razor sharp. He didn't look human, not at all. His eyes were very red… eyes that were suddenly connected with hers.

"Lucius," the snake-like man said, deceitful calmness in his voice, "I think we have some company."

Iris froze as all eyes settled on her. She was quite aware at the thunderous expression on her father's face, but she couldn't seem to look away from Voldemort's eyes.

Lucius was quickly at her side and pushed her away. The door was firmly shut behind him, but Iris was still too shell-shocked to be bothered by her father's palpable anger.

"So i-it's true," she whispered in horror, tears slowly sliding down from her grey eyes. "He's back. He's _really_ back."

Before she could register what was happening, Lucius already had his wand tip pointed at her temple. " _Obliviate_ ," he murmured.

Iris was midway from releasing a loud scream when she paused, and frowned.

"Father?" she asked, blinking rapidly in confusion upon seeing her stoic father standing in front of her. "Wha – ? W-why am I here?"

"Do not stutter, Iris," he snappishly replied. "That is very unbecoming of a Malfoy!"

She stiffened and automatically straightened her back. "Of course, Father," she quickly said. "I apologize."

"Go back to your bedroom," he ordered, turned around, and slipped back into the drawing room without another word.

Iris lightly glared at the closed door. " _'Do not stutter, Iris,'_ " she echoed mockingly, turning on her heel and stomping back to her bedroom, still unsure how she got there in the first place. The last thing she remembered was that she was finishing her homework in the Malfoy library.

Brushing those thoughts away, Iris promised to practice more beauty spells Pansy had taught her before going to sleep.

* * *

Dolores Umbridge was steadily becoming the bane of their existence.

The moment she was introduced during the Welcoming Feast, clad in the most atrocious shade of pink, promising to keep Hogwarts safe and reassuring those who disrupted the blanketed peace surrounding the school would surely be severely punished. She was also their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, much to Hermes' dread. She seemed like she was going to be the worse DADA teacher they ever had… _yes_ , even worse than Quirrell!

Their first DADA lesson was disappointing, to say the least. Barty Crouch Jr. in disguise as Mad-Eye Moody's class were interesting, albeit dark and uncomfortable. _Still_ , they learned about the Unforgivables and their consequences.

Now, Umbridge firmly told them to read the very first chapter of their DADA textbook and make notes about it. _Notes_. She ordered all their wands to be safely kept inside their backpacks because they wouldn't need them.

Hermes could not accept that. Defense Against the Dark Arts was a skill-based subject! True, the theories would greatly enhance their understanding in casting the defensive spells, but it would be pretty useless if they did not practice it with an actual wand.

Before his best friends could stop him, Hermes' hand was already in the air. Umbridge glanced at it briefly and pretended to busy herself with the clipboard she was holding.

"What are you doing?" Ron murmured under his breath, looking at him as if he'd gone mental.

Hermes ignored him and cleared his throat, trying to gain her attention. He persisted until a look of irritation flickered on Umbridge's face. She finally addressed him with a saccharine smile.

"With all due respect, Professor," he started, "I don't think merely understanding the basic principles of magic will help you in the battlefield."

"Battlefield?" Umbridge said, a hand flying to her heart. "Goodness, Mr…?"

"Granger."

"Yes, Mr. Granger, I don't think you younglings must think of something so dangerous as _fighting_ on a battlefield," she said, tutting under her breath.

She turned away from him, but Hermes wasn't done.

"If," he shot back, " _only if_ , Professor, of course, a time will come when we are faced against a wizard who shoots a dark curse our way, say one of the Unforgivables, I'm sure we cannot counterattack by reciting the benefits and consequences of the Stunning Hex. If, _only if_ again, Professor, it was the _Avada_ sent our way, we would have been dead by then."

"Dead," she echoed, her eyes already dangerously glinting under the dim lights of their DADA classroom.

Hermes steadfastly nodded his head. "Yes, dead, Professor," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Only if, of course. Purely hypothetical."

Snickers ran rampant in the room. Hermes knew he was being outrightly rude to someone of higher status, but Umbridge was _annoying_. She treated them as if they were children, like bloody _fools_ , and Hermes wouldn't just stand aside and let her do her way.

" _Hem, hem_!" she exclaimed, louder than normal, and the snickering quieted down.

The toad-faced professor gave him a stern glare as she stepped away from her table. She walked closer, her kitten heels ringing loudly in the suddenly silent classroom, until she stopped in front of the table where the Golden Trio sat.

"What is your blood status, young man?" she asked, an unsettling smile on her face.

Hermes frowned. "Muggleborn, Professor," he replied without skipping a beat.

Her smile widened and for a moment, Hermes imagined she looked like a huge toad with human teeth.

"Of course," Umbridge tutted condescendingly, lightly patting his brown curls. Hermes flinched and backpedalled. "That explains it."

His frown turned into an offended scowl. "With all due respect," he started once more through gritted teeth, "whatever did you mean by that, _Professor_?"

Umbridge's simpering smile wavered a little, but she gave him a sigh and shook her head. "It means, that _of course_ you wouldn't understand because you weren't raised in the Wizarding World, Mr. Granger," she simply explained. "The other students who grew in this world can testify that this world had always been safe because, as what we've been telling you all since the end of the Triwizard Tournament, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is gone for good. All thanks to Mr. Potter here, of course." She beamed brightly and gestured at the glowering bespectacled Gryffindor. "Why don't we all give him a round of applause, yes? Terrible, _terrible_ tragedy, of course, but it's been for the greater good."

Hermes' jaw dropped. "His parents _died_ ," he claimed with widened eyes. "How can you say that?"

"Now, now, no need for that tone of voice," Professor Umbridge with a tut. "Sacrifices are meant to be done, Mr. Granger. Poor Mr. Potter's parents knew this and because of that great sacrifice, the Wizarding World is now safe. _Still_ very safe, if I may."

"Safe," Harry spat for the first time, deceptively calm. He slowly lifted his eyes, hateful and angry, to look back at the great toad. " _Voldemort_ is back, and you think the Wizarding World is still safe?"

People flinched with the mention of the Dark Lord's name. Even Ron sitting beside Hermes stiffened with his name.

"Mr. Potter," Umbridge admonished, that sickening smile now completely wiped away from her face. "Don't dis – "

"NO!" Harry bellowed. Hermes expelled a soft groan, knowing that a furious Harry would be difficult to mollify. " _Voldemort_ is fucking back and the stupid ministry is in denial."

His simple claim was met with deathly silence. Umbridge was steadily turning purple and Hermes had to clutch onto Harry's arm to keep him seated.

"Detention," the professor spat. "Detention _tonight_ , Mr. Potter. You must learn not to tell lies in order not to disrupt the peace that had befallen over the Wizarding World." She theatrically placed another hand against her heart. "What would your poor parents say?"

"Harry!" Hermes sharply exclaimed when The-Boy-Who-Lived shook, his wand now on his right hand. "Quit it!" The damage had already been done and Hermes would prefer it very much if Harry would only get detention.

Then, to Umbridge, he started, "Professor, I don't thi – "

"Quiet, Mr. Granger," the Professor said with that sweet smile on her face again. "I'm sure you don't want to land yourself in detention, too, yes?"

He bit his tongue very hard until the end of their class.

* * *

Hermes flinched when Harry angrily ripped his bed curtain open.

Ron and Hermes lounged on Harry's bed, waiting for the Boy-Who-Lived to come back from his detention with Umbridge. They exchanged guesses on what Harry's detention would be, bordering imaginative (mostly from Ron) to downright _insane_. They had the Marauder's Map on hand, trying to gauge what Umbridge's dot was doing with Harry's dot, but to no avail.

"That good-for-nothing, toad-faced, condescending bitch!" Harry hissed, clambering onto his bed and effectively pushing Ron to the wall.

Hermes spied the suspicious look Seamus Finnegan was shooting at Harry's bed and immediately closed the bed curtain around them. The half-blood had been antagonistic to Harry ever since school started, claiming he was barking mad for spewing lies that did nothing to alleviate his parents' worry. Hermes was sure he was looking for anything incriminating about Harry he could bring to Umbridge, that smarmy git.

After a quick _'Muffliato'_ , Hermes worriedly looked at the fuming Harry, still murmuring insults about Umbridge under his breath.

"What did she do?" he quickly asked, surveying Harry from head to toe to look for any sign of physical punishment.

"Did she force you to have a tea party with her kittens?" Ron hopefully asked, a humored smile on his face.

Harry frowned. "What?" he asked.

Ron sighed, clearly disappointed. "Never mind, mate," he said.

"But what did she do?" Hermes insisted, shooting a brief glare at Ron.

The-Boy-Who-Lived sighed and yanked his right sleeve. Hermes darted a curious glance at Harry's forearm, not entirely sure what he was showing them, but when Hermes noticed the slight disfiguration on his arm, he gasped. He grasped Harry's arm and muttered a quick _'Lumos'._ Under his wand light, he was able to clearly see the raw and slightly bleeding wound on his skin.

"'I must not tell lies'," he read aloud.

"What the bloody hell?" Ron exclaimed, grabbing Harry's arm with an angry glare.

"A _blood quill_?" Hermes thundered. Harry slightly flinched at his voice, but Hermes trudged on. "But that's illegal!"

"Bloody hell," the redhead repeated, turning pale. "Mum will go ballistic if she discovered this is how students in Hogwarts are punished right now."

Hermes angrily pulled out his wand and summoned dittany from his backpack. It came hurtling within seconds and he easily caught the tub with his hands. He opened the lid and angrily grabbed onto Harry's arm once more. He scooped a few of the gel and rubbed it over Harry's wound, despite his protests.

"Merlin, Hermes, be gentle," he grumbled.

The curly-haired Gryffindor mellowed a bit and sighed. "Sorry," he said, "Umbridge just makes me _so_ angry."

"Tell me about it?" Ron snorted, rolling his eyes. "I can't believe she'll use something illegal for detention."

"Oh, I can perfectly believe it," Hermes said, still rather sore with the professor's words during their DADA class. "As a racist and a bigot. I mean, _honestly_ , she treats us as if we are 5!" Then, to Harry, he asked, "How many times did she make you write this?"

"I wasn't entirely sure," Harry said through gritted teeth. "I was too busy being angry at that toad and biting back any complaints."

"So, _a lot_ ," Hermes concluded with a disgruntled sigh.

"You have to tell someone, Harry," Ron suggested with a frown. "Dumbledore! Or… or McGonagall. Blood quills are considered as dark artifacts and using it as a form of punishment is bloody illegal."

Hermes earnestly nodded his head in agreement but Harry shook his. "No, I don't think we should bother Dumbledore," he murmured with a frown. "He has too much on his plate, anyway. And McGonagall…" He shook his head. "I have this inkling she has no authority over that slimy toad."

"But if she continued to get away from this, more students will fall victim to this barbaric punishment," Hermes insisted.

"You know, the best thing for everybody to be happy is if Dumbledore sacked Umbridge," Ron quipped.

"Umbridge was placed there by the _ministry_ ," Harry said with a sigh. "I don't think Dumbledore could sack her if he wanted to. Besides, I think they placed Umbridge in Hogwarts to keep an eye on _me_. You know, the barmy Boy-Who-Lived spouting claims that Voldemort is back."

Ron noticeably flinched, prompting Hermes to roll his eyes.

"Blimey, Ron, it's just a name," he shot back.

"Well, sorry, but I've been trained since I was young that that name is evil," the redhead replied defensively.

Hermes sighed, but dropped the subject in the end. "What are we going to do?" he mused aloud. "We can't keep going to DADA while reading our textbooks."

Ron quirked an eyebrow. "Isn't that a dream come true for you, Hermes?" he lightly teased.

"Shut up, Ronald," he said, throwing Harry's pillow towards his head. He gave a satisfied grin when it hit him squarely on his face. "DADA was made specifically to improve our _skills_ in defending the dark arts. We need to practice with our wands, not just read the theories behind the spells."

"Then we practice," Ron said matter-of-factly. "During our free time."

"I don't think it's as simple as that," Hermes said with a frown. "I think if Umbridge realized the students were freely practicing defensive spells over lunch, she'd go ballistic and purchase more blood quills for detention."

"No, Ron's right," Harry suddenly said, his eyes lighting up with an idea. "We can practice during our free time."

Hermes looked at Harry incredulous. "Didn't you just hear what I just said?"

"We can do it _secretly_ ," the bespectacled wizard elaborated. "Umbridge doesn't have to know. We can ask around if there are other people who'd like to practice DADA with their wands. Under an oath or a contract, if you want to be careful."

"But where will we conduct these 'secret lessons'?"

Harry absentmindedly rubbed his scar. "I'll figure it out," he murmured. "Maybe there's someplace in the Marauder's Map or something." His eyes widened as a huge grin appeared on his face. "Maybe Dobby will know something."

"This isn't a good idea, Harry," Hermes claimed, his eyebrows knitting at the middle. "But, if we are to be _careful_ …" He was unable to finish his sentence, the gears in his brain already working overtime to come up with a comprehensive plan. "We need a binding contract, that's for sure. We'll be able to figure out who ratted us out if ever. And… and perhaps a way of communicating without passing letters. Umbridge might intercept them and we'd be in so much trouble."

Hermes had always been intrigued about how Voldemort summoned his underlings through the Dark Mark, hence he researched about it extensively and came across the Protean Charm. He promised to go to the library first thing tomorrow to read on it more.

"All right, well then, that's it!" Harry said and an excited smile. "Since Hermes here is already formulating a wonderful plan, I think it's safe to say that we'll start practicing DADA behind that toad's back!"

"Who's going to teach us, though?" Ron quipped.

Hermes gave Harry a pointed glance. "You will," he said without skipping a beat.

"Me?" Harry asked with wide eyes. "Why? Between the two of us, you're the brilliant one."

"Thanks, mate, but you're loads better in Defense Against the Dark Arts," Hermes said with a smile. "You know more defensive spells than any fifteen year old knows. Besides, you can produce a _corporeal patronus_. That's already advance magic and you're amazing at it."

"I don't know…"

"I'll make the curriculum, don't worry," Hermes said with an eye roll, prompting Harry to sheepishly smile.

"You'll be brilliant at it, mate," Ron wholly agreed. "You've always been the leader-type, you know."

Harry's cheeks had reddened a bit. "Fine," he said with a put-out frown.

Ron chuckled and swung an arm over his shoulders. "Don't worry, Harry," he chirpily said. "If you go down, we'll go down with you."

A corner of Hermes' lips lifted when Harry snorted and finally kicked them off his bed.

* * *

"What the fuck!" Dean Thomas exclaimed, jumping a little when he felt sudden heat in his trousers. The Golden Trio simultaneously snickered under their breaths. The dark-skinned Gryffindor shot them a look, realizing it was the charmed coin Hermes had distributed that gave him a fright. "A little warning next time."

"Hence, the coin," Hermes said with a smirk. "Don't be late, Thomas."

Harry snickered when Dean rolled his eyes. He swung both of his arms over Ron's and Hermes' shoulder, excitement emitting from his body.

"Curb the excitement, Potter," Hermes furiously said under his breath. "We don't want anyone getting suspicious now."

"And me acting all excited is suspicious?" Harry asked with a quirk of his eyebrow.

"Yes," the curly-haired of the trio answered without skipping a beat. Ron snorted, while Harry scowled.

He pulled their heads closer none too gently, earning groans of pain from the other two. "Come on, wankers," he gleefully said. "We have some learning to do."

It was perhaps their third lesson as the new Dumbledore's Army and Hermes was pleased that all was going according to plan. All the names of those who joined were written on one parchment spelled to curse whomever ratted them out; Hermes specifically told them the curse that will befall the sneak would be nasty, effectively frightening the new members.

Harry, as predicted, was brilliant as their teacher. He taught the _Stupefy_ , _Reducto_ , _Expelliarmus, Protego_ and other simple defensive spells that would be mighty useful when they were finally on the battlefield.

Today, they were going to learn the Patronus Charm, much to Hermes' excitement. While Harry walked thrice in front of the bare wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, he wondered what his patronus would be. Harry's was magnificent – a silver stag as a nod to his father's animagus form. Hermes had read somewhere that some patronuses would take form of an animal best attributed to them or, like in Harry's case, animals that greatly represented someone important to them.

Hermes beamed when they walked inside. The ensemble of mostly Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, with some Ravenclaws, scattered around the training room given to them by the Room of Requirement. Although Hermes insisted that it would be fair if they offered these lessons to other Slytherins, Harry pointed out it would be too dangerous especially they were Housemates with Iris Malfoy. He was absolutely sure Malfoy would figure it out and rat them to Umbridge.

"Hello, Hermes," Luna Lovegood, an eccentric Ravenclaw fourth year, greeted with a dreamy smile on her face.

"Hey, Luna," he said with a small nod. He eyed her cork necklace and radish earrings with mild amusement, before he was pulled by Ron and Harry at the very front of the Room of Requirement.

While Harry prattled about the theory behind the Patronus Charm, Hermes silently contemplated what his happiest memory would be. Harry revealed his was discovering he was a wizard. After years of feeling like he didn't belong with the Dursleys at all, it gave him such relief and happiness to know that it was because he belonged somewhere else, somewhere better, and had constantly clung to that memory during times of hardships.

Hermes didn't have a terrible childhood like Harry. Sure, he was ecstatic to discover he was a wizard, too, but it wasn't a strong enough emotion for him. In order for him to produce a corporeal patronus, the feeling should be overwhelming and powerful.

"Draw out your wands," Harry chirped out happily, pulling out his own wand, "And say _'Expecto Patronum'_!" He repeated the spell and drew a circle in the air. White mist shot out from the tip of his wand and formed a magnificent stag, galloping around the awed students before vanishing into thin air. "Go on. Try it."

" _Expecto Patronum_ ," Hermes said after conjuring a happy, peaceful memory he had with his parents after a vacation in France. To his disappointment, merely a silver mist shot out from his wand.

"That's brilliant, Hermes!" Harry exclaimed.

"It's incorporeal, Harry," the curly-haired student shot back with a sigh.

"It's a start," he insisted, before bounding on to another student to correct his stance.

' _All right, Hermes, think, think, think,'_ he thought, drawing in a deep breath as he started to sort through his memories. Trolls. Quirrel. Quidditch. Basilisk. Chamber of Secrets. Werewolves. Sirius Black. Scabbers. Triwizard Tournament. Cedric Diggory dead… _'Well, that's not exactly a dandy thought_."

Hermes sighed and shook his head, realizing that almost of all of his memories here in Hogwarts were those of dangerous adventures that almost cost him his life and his best friends. He shot a quick glance at Ron and rolled his eyes, nothing how Ron was drawing the circle counterclockwise instead of the usual clockwise. _'Idiot,'_ he thought with a smile.

He then looked at Harry Potter, blushing furiously as he tried to guide Cho Chang in drawing a perfect circle in the air. _'Idiot,'_ he thought once more, his grin growing wider.

Then, it just clicked to him. His happy memory.

He didn't have friends before Hogwarts. He was always alone, with his books and his imagination. Then, he came to Hogwarts and became best friends with two total buffoons that had a penchant for danger and adventure. Hermes already lost count how many times he saved their sorry arses.

But despite their stark differences, they forged a friendship deeper than anything Hermes had ever read in his books. They always got each other's back, and although there were moments when one was too insufferable to deal and handle, they always stuck through together.

Hermes, with a brilliant grin, knew he would never trade them for anything in this world.

He then thought of a simple memory, of Ron apologizing to Harry during the Second Task, and being absolute wankers about it. He realized he was always the happiest when they made up and become friends once more.

Taking a deep breath, he drew a perfect circle in the air, and exclaimed " _Expecto Patronum!_ "

A powerful silver mist shot out from his wand and, to his utmost amazement, formed a huge brown bear. It barrelled towards a stunned Harry, his patronus gathering The-Boy-Who-Lived in its arms, and swinging him around in a dizzying pace.

"HERMES!" Harry exclaimed at the top of his voice. "MAKE IT STOP!"

The curly-haired Gryffindor muttered a quick _Finite_. Harry fell on the cushioned floor with a soft thud, and stayed there for a few moments.

Silence fell in the Room of Requirement. Ron released a small cough, and then another, then Hermes realized the redhead was trying to hide a laugh but was failing miserably. Loud, roaring laughter escaped from his lips and _Merlin_ , it was so infectious the others started to heartily laugh too.

Hermes found himself snickering a little as he ran towards Harry's fallen form. "Harry," he said, kicking him a little. "You all right, mate?"

Harry groaned and shifted on the floor so he was lying on his back. His glasses were smashed beside him and absentmindedly, Hermes shot a quick _Oculus Reparo_ before squatting down to look at Harry.

"Sorry about that," he said sheepishly.

"What the fuck was that?" Ron said, falling beside him.

"A brown bear, I suppose," Hermes said with a casual shrug as he helped Harry on a sitting position.

Harry, after composing himself, shot forward and smacked his hand behind Hermes' head.

"Bloody hell!" Hermes exclaimed in pain.

"You _wanker_ ," Harry said, glowering darkly at him. "You did that on purpose!"

"I did not!" he retorted in indignation. "How was I to know that patronus bear was going to… to…" He burst into uncontrollable snickering. "I mean, it was really funny, Harry…"

"If you weren't the one held in a bone crushing hug and swung around, it is!" Harry cried, crossing an arm across his chest.

Ron was laughing wildly once more. " _Blimey_ , a brown bear totally suits you, Hermes," he said. "What with your Hug of Warmth and all."

"Must be one hell of a memory for you to produce something so mighty," Harry grumbled, rubbing his smarting chest.

Hermes grinned widely and swung an arm over their shoulders. "Absolutely," he simply replied.

* * *

Iris wasn't entirely sure why Professor Umbridge formed the Inquisitorial Squad. Well, as long as she got a shiny badge, then she didn't care really. All Umbridge told them was that their squad's primary task was to catch any students blatantly breaking all the decrees she had decorated over the walls of the Great Hall.

Theo once pointed out to the other members of the Inquisitorial Squad why Umbridge just didn't say outright that their main job was to catch the Golden Trio in the act. It would have made their job a lot easier.

Despite their confusing job description, Iris was happy to tell her father about her new position at school. Although his reply was brief, she knew he was pleased with her new shiny badge. That was all that really mattered to her.

Besides, her new position brought powers even Prefects couldn't possess. Docking points here and there every time she found something she disliked, strutting the hallways like she was queen, and smirking at those who questioned her authority. All she had to do was point a manicured finger at the silver 'I' pinned on her breast pocket, and the student would shut the hell up and accept any punishment she would give them.

Now, Iris volunteered to patrol the library every day. When Blaise asked why she got to handpick her patrols, she merely gave him a withering glare. " _I'm a Malfoy, of course_ ," she snootily claimed. " _I can do whatever the hell I want_." There was also an unspoken agreement that she was the Head of the Inquisitorial Squad, so there's that, too.

She smirked widely when a second year Hufflepuff scampered out of the library when she came inside. She glanced at the other students studying inside, mindlessly docking points if they were holding their quill wrong or they were just plain ugly, whatever tickled her fancy, until she finally spied her favorite Gryffindor.

Hermes Granger was this time studying on a desk near the Potions section, almost near where Blaise usually sat when he's studying. She finally concluded that whatever subject he was studying, he would sit near that section in the library so that he could reach out a reference book easily if he needed to.

"10 points from Gryffindor for being a swot, Granger," she drawled, announcing her presence.

Granger frowned. "Is that even allowed?" he shot back, indignant.

"10 more points for questioning authority," she added, her smirk growing when he bristled. "Be very careful with your words from now on if you don't want to lose precious points for your beloved House, mudblood."

He neatly placed his quill back on his desk and stared at her in annoyance. "What do you want, Malfoy?" he snapped.

"Just making sure the brain of the Golden Trio isn't doing anything shady," she said with a casual shrug.

"I'm not hiding anything," he pointed out.

She quirked an eyebrow. "Interesting," she said, "I didn't even say you're hiding anything, Granger."

He stilled for a bit, before he schooled his emotions and looked back at her coolly. Too late, because Iris was able to see the slight panic on his face. She had this inkling ever since Umbridge became High Inquisitor that the Golden Trio were doing something illegal behind her back. It was much more _interesting_ because Granger, the swotty, stick-to-rules bastard, was conniving with his idiotic friends, too.

Slowly, she leaned down, bracing both of her hands on the wooden table. She gave him a good view of her new shiny badge, and _maybe_ her new black, lacy bra, too, and smirked at him sweetly. His eyes widened at little, cheeks blushing, before hastily gazing away to look at anything but her.

"Watch your every step, Granger," she purred in a low whisper. "I can squish you like a good little bug if I were given the chance."

She pulled away and casually turned around, very much aware that his eyes burned holes at her back until she disappeared behind the great doors of the library.

* * *

Iris knew it was only a matter of time before the Golden Trio was busted.

"Keep moving, bitch," Pansy snarled, pushing Marietta Edgecomb a little too hard. She almost fell on all fours if Blaise hadn't grabbed onto her arm.

A soft whimper escaped from the Ravenclaw's mouth, tears already gathered at the corner of her eyes. Iris glanced at the crying blonde student with harsh pimples that spelled the word 'SNEAK' across her nose and cheek. Merlin, it was bold and embarrassing. Iris had no doubt this was Hermes Granger's handiwork.

' _Swot,'_ she thought, a small smile flitting her face.

"What's gotten your knickers in a twist?" Theo asked, glaring down at Pansy's glowering face.

"Being in this stupid squad is too much work," she complained, prodding Marietta's back to keep her walking. "I just want to crawl back to my bed and get my beauty sleep."

"As if _that's_ going to help," Theo murmured under his breath.

"I heard that, Nott!" she shrieked, pointing her wand at his nose.

The gangly Slytherin smirked down at her. "Really now?" he asked with a mock gasp. "I didn't mean to offend, _Lady Parkinson_."

" _Stu –_ "

"Shut up!" Iris hollered, fed up with their antics.

Pansy paused, wand hand mid-air, before walking as far away from Theo as possible.

"Well _someone's_ got her knicker in a twist," Theo murmured under his breath, comically placing a hand against his mouth to mime a whisper towards an unamused Blaise. "I can't believe you briefly dated her, Blaise. I mean, she's a terror."

Iris narrowed her eyes as Blaise rolled his eyes. The Italian glanced at her briefly and the blonde noted pinkness on his cheeks. Iris made a face, remembering their pathetic attempts for snogging last week, which were, simply put, _atrocious_. It wasn't because Blaise was a terrible kisser, really, but they practically grew up together. It was like kissing a _brother_. Thankfully, he had the same thoughts as her and immediately broke everything off before things started to become unbearably awkward between them.

Grimacing, Iris once again remembered to pen a letter to her parents regarding her failed relationship with the Zabini heir. Her father would surely be disappointed, but Iris couldn't care less.

"Are we there yet?" Theo then whined, grating on Iris' nerves.

"Crabbe, Goyle, make Nott shut up," Iris barked. Her two, silent cronies immediately walked towards the gangly Slytherin, hands curled into fists.

"Merlin, Malfoy, lighten up," he said with a nervous laugh, raising both of his hands as a sign of surrender.

Crabbe and Goyle looked at Iris in question, before she silently nodded her head. The two buffoons went back to their usual position, always behind Iris, and continued their journey in silence.

"Where the hell are you taking us, Edgecomb?" Iris snarled, getting irritated herself. They were steadily rising through the staircases, still without a clear destination. Marietta insisted that the room where Potter and his squad were practicing was secret, and the only way she could describe it was to show it to them.

"Almost," she murmured, her eyes trained intently on the stone floor.

Iris sighed and urged her to go faster. She made a face at a tapestry of a wizard hilariously training a couple of trolls for ballet. At the corner of her eyes, she saw Theo snicker under his breath, hitting Blaise with his pointy elbow to point at the tapestry.

"We're here," Marietta declared.

They all halted in their steps and expectantly looked at the Ravenclaw.

"There's no bloody door," Blaise pointed out, seemingly bored.

Iris lifted the tapestry with her wand and peeked behind. Only a smooth stone wall greeted her.

Furious, she shifted her wand tip at the quacking Ravenclaw. "I _swear_ Edgecomb," she started with a nasty look in her eyes, "if you're tricking us, the word 'sneak' will not be the only thing on your face."

The Ravenclaw whimpered and took a few steps back. "N-not behind the tapestry," she stuttered. "But across from it!"

All their eyes landed on the stone wall across, hastily searching for any hint of a door or passageway.

"There's still no door," Theo singsonged, pulling out his wand and casually twirling it with his fingers.

Marietta stumbled back until she collided against the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. "T-the door will only materialize if you walk across it thrice while thinking what you need," she explained. "I told you this place is _secret_."

Iris quirked an eyebrow. "I've never heard of a room like that in Hogwarts before," she voiced aloud.

"Hence, _secret_ ," Theo said with a humongous eye roll. "Honestly, princess, weren't you just listening to her?"

She gave him a sharp glare, effectively shutting up the annoying wizard. Then, she looked back at Marietta and ordered, "Show us."

The younger witch hesitantly nodded her head and walked towards the wall opposite the tapestry. She slowly walked to and fro thrice and, much to their amazement, a huge wooden door materialized.

"Wicked," Theo murmured as Iris hastily walked forward and blasted the door open.

A huge smirk appeared on her face, identical looks of horror seen on the occupants inside. The room was impressive with a ceiling as high as the one in the Great Hall. It was arranged like a training room of sorts, with obvious scorch marks and scratches seen around. The floor was charmed to cushion their fall every time they were blasted away.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Iris said, striding inside, the others closely following behind. She smirked menacingly at Marietta and continued, "You've been of great help, Edgecomb. Take 50 points for Ravenclaw."

"Sneak," somebody hissed from the group. Marietta hid her scarred face behind her hands and started to earnestly cry.

Iris' grey eyes landed on the person who insulted the Ravenclaw and settled on Ginny Weasley. The redhead looked fiery and angry, wand out and poised for a duel. The blonde Slytherin then surveyed the other people in the room and frowned.

"The Golden Idiots aren't here," she realized. Her eyes landed back at the youngest Weasley. "Where are they, she-Weasley?"

Ginny lifted her chin, her blue eyes turning steely. "As if I'll tell _you_ , Malfoy," she spat.

The infamous Malfoy smirk appeared on her face as she sashayed towards the redhead, her heels clicking loudly in the stone floor of the training room. The other students moved away like she was the plague until Iris was standing in front of the Gryffindor.

"I wasn't asking nicely, Weasley," she sweetly purred. "20 points from Gryffindor."

The bitch had the audacity to snort. "Merlin, that's terrifying," she drawled.

The smirk fell from Iris' face as cold fury appeared on her face. With deceptive calmness, she walked behind Ginny and kicked behind her shin. The redhead released a surprised, pained cry and fell down on her knees. Iris placed the tip of her wand underneath her chin and crouched forward. "I'm going to ask again, Weasley," she whispered against her ear. "Where is the Golden Trio?"

" _Expelliarmus_!"

Her wand flew away from her grip. Iris straightened herself, furious beyond reason, and saw eccentric Looney Lovegood clutching her wand.

"Ginny doesn't know where Harry and the others went, Iris," she calmly said with that breathy voice of hers.

"Crabbe, get me my wand!" Iris shrieked.

Before Crabbe could snatch her wand from Iris' hand, a loud " _Stupefy_ " resounded in the whole room. Crabbe became unconscious and fell on the floor with a loud thud.

Iris stared at the source of the spell and scowled upon seeing a trembling Neville Longbottom. "Really, Longbottom?" she snarled.

"We don't know where they went," he grounded out with false bravado. He scrunched up his forehead as if deep in concentration. "I overheard Harry saying about a firecall and – "

"Neville!" Ginny hissed, cutting him off from his sentence. The older Gryffindor's eyes widened, realizing his mistake.

Iris smirked once more. "Never mind, I already know where they went," she said, absentmindedly flicking her hair behind her shoulders. Firecalls were forbidden in any fireplaces in this school except _one_ – the High Inquisitor's office. "Bloody stupid too."

She then grabbed a handful of Ginny's hair and glanced at the others. Theo and Blaise understood her silent command for they immediately incarcerated Luna and Neville.

"Goyle, go get Umbridge," she said. "Bring her to her office."

Then, to the others, "Let's bring these three little students too, eh? I'm sure Umbridge would love to punish more rule breakers."

* * *

"I must say you lot are either very brave or downright stupid."

Hermes froze and turned around. Harry told him to guard the door while he and Ron tried to contact Sirius' through Umbridge's fireplace. The whole plan in the first place felt disastrous but for it to _actually_ fail… _well_ , Hermes could already feel his blood freezing in horror.

The whole Inquisitorial Squad, led by Malfoy, together with incarcerated Ginny, Neville, and Luna were standing at the other end of the hallway.

"Sorry, Hermes," Neville meekly whispered, whimpering in pain when Zabini prodded his wand against his back to shut him up.

Hermes tried to think of an escape plan fast. " _Stu_ – "

" _Expelliarmus_ ," Malfoy calmly said, Hermes' wand immediately shooting out from her wand. She placed it in her breast pocket and smirked. She pushed Ginny into Goyle's hands and sauntered closer to him.

"Malfoy…"

"Shut up, Granger," she said. Ropes shot out from her wand and bound his hands together. "Now, why don't we pay your precious friends a visit?"

She yanked the door open and pushed him inside. Her grip with his arm was tight and painful, her long nails already digging deeply into his skin.

"Hermes!" Ron exclaimed, paling at the sight before him. His eyes almost bulged out when he saw Ginny among the group.

Before the two could react, Malfoy already caught their wands.

They were effectively cornered and Hermes thought really, _really_ hard to plan how they could survive this situation. Malfoy was out for blood, that was for sure. He didn't doubt it if they already called for Umbridge.

As if on cue, the High Inquisitory dressed in garish pink came barging in, her toad face resembling the sick color of her dress.

"What is the meaning of this?" she snapped, eyes narrowed mostly at Harry.

"High Inquisitor," Malfoy said, her grip on his arm still firm and secure, "I caught them sneaking into your office, attempting to firecall someone."

Hermes glared down at her shiny blonde hair, but Malfoy did not look back at him.

Umbridge's pink face was slowly turning purple as she stalked forward and pushed Harry onto one of the chairs. " _Incarcerous_ ," she shrilly exclaimed, ropes emerging out from her wand to secure Harry's arm against the armchair.

She took a deep breath and showed that sickly sweet smile on her face. She levelled her eyes at Harry and said, "You were going to Dumbledore, weren't you?"

"No," Harry bluntly said with a firm stare.

Hermes flinched when Umbridge's hand shot forward and forcefully slapped Harry across his cheek.

"You called for me, Dolores?"

His eyes widened when Snape suddenly strode inside. Their Potions professor didn't even bat an eye at the strange ensemble inside Umbridge's office.

"I need Veritaserum, Severus," she said, bordering pleading. "The time for answers is now. This cannot go on for a few more days! They're growing insolent."

Snape quirked an eyebrow, his face still not betraying any emotions. "I'm afraid you've used up all the Veritaserum in your last interrogation, High Inquisitor," he said, looking mildly bored. "So, unless you want me to poison Potter with an unfinished new batch, I'm afraid I cannot help you."

He was about to turn away when Harry blurted out, "He's got Padfoot!" Snape paused in his walking and turned around, curiosity on his face. "He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden."

Hermes knew there was recognition in Snape's eyes. His heart almost soared with hope, wondering if they could finally make sure that Sirius Black was all right and put Harry's heart to peace.

"Padfoot? Who's Padfoot?" Umbridge asked shrilly. "Severus, what is he talking about?"

It took a moment before Snape turned his face away from Harry and stared squarely into Umbridge's eyes. "No idea." He soon left without any other word, his black cloak billowing behind.

Any hope he felt was now crushed and Hermes glared as hard as he could at Umbridge.

"Well then," the High Inquisitor said. She strode closer to her table and placed a framed picture of the minister down. "You leave me no choice, Mr. Potter." She dramatically placed a hand against her heart and faced the bespectacled wizard. "As much as it pains me, I have the right to know." She pulled out her wand and pointed it at Harry. "It has been proven that even the stubbornest wizard cracks after one Cruciatus Curse."

Hermes stilled, disbelief on his face. _'No, no, no, no, no,'_ he chanted in his mind, trying to piece a lie that could save Harry, save _all_ of them from this evil, pink-clad, cat lady!

" _Cru_ – "

"TELL HER HARRY!" Hermes blurted out, a half-assed idea already forming in his mind.

Umbridge paused and turned to him. "Tell her what?" she asked, eyes brightening in curiosity.

Iris' grip on his arm tightened. "Shut up, Granger, if you want to live," she warned, trying to keep him in place, but Hermes determinedly shook her off.

"Well, if you're not going to tell her where it is, I will," he firmly exclaimed. Harry was looking at him in confusion and he stared at him sternly, mentally relaying him to trust whatever he got up his sleeve.

"What the fuck are you doing, Hermes?" he heard Ron whisper.

"Where what is?" Umbridge grounded out, her wand still pointed at Harry's face.

Hermes took a deep, shaky breath and stepped forward. "Dumbledore's secret weapon," he lied through his teeth, praying that he looked guilty as hell to convince Umbridge.

Upon the mention of their Headmaster, Umbridge's eyes widened in excited wonder and finally lowered her wand. "Mr. Granger, I am glad you are cooperating," she said, striding closer to where he stood. "Tell me where this secret weapon is."

"If I do," he slowly started, "you have to let us leave unscathed."

Her eyes turned steely. "I am the High Inquisitor of this school and you have no _right_ – " She paused midway and took a deep calming breath. Once she expelled all of it, a small, condescending smile appeared on her face. "Very well, Mr. Granger. Please continue."

"It's hidden in the Forbidden Forest," he blurted out, his tongue rolling out flawlessly for such an elaborate lie. "We broke into your office because we need to contact Dumbledore to tell him it is ready."

The smile on her face grew into a pleased one. "Well, isn't that easy?" she said, clasping both of her hands together. "Tell me where it is this instant."

But Hermes already shook his head. "Only Harry and I know where it is," he continued. "Dumbledore made sure that we are the only ones who will be able to see it." He confidently lifted his chin. "If you want to know where it is, Harry and I must come."

She looked conflicted for a moment before waving her wand, vanishing Harry's ropes. "Very well," she said. She looked at the other students in the room and smiled. "Guard these troublemakers for me. I'll deal with them once we return."

She hauled Harry back onto his feet and pushed him out. Hermes was about to follow but he was stopped when Malfoy's hand grabbed onto his sleeve.

"Liar," she hissed for only him to hear.

He looked down at her with a firm stare. Malfoy was too brilliant to buy his lie; it was honestly preposterous, but he knew mentioning Dumbledore and some secret weapon would interest Umbridge. Ever since she discovered Dumbledore's Army, she had been convinced Dumbledore was secretly trying to bring her down.

He stared at the Slytherin's grey eyes with a silent challenge, waiting with bated breath if she'd reveal that everything he said was a lie. There was something indecipherable in her eyes, something only Malfoy could truly pull, before she finally let go of his hand and looked away.

Hermes looked down at her in shock. She was _literally_ looking the other way and he couldn't understand.

Before he could question her, Umbridge was already calling for his name.

With one last confused glance at Iris, he walked away and immediately followed Umbridge and Harry.

* * *

Ron went down from their dormitory room and glanced at Hermes. He sadly shook his head and looked down at his shoes.

It was all the answer Hermes needed, prompting him to sigh and sling his bag across his shoulder. "It can't be helped," he quipped in a whisper. "Might as well give him some space, mate."

"I'll be over the Quidditch Pitch if you need me," Ron said.

To which he replied, "I'll be at the library if you need me."

They shared a small smile before going their separate ways, their minds still busy worrying for their other best friend.

The hallways were annoyingly cheery as the students excitedly prepared for the coming summer. They still glanced at Hermes curiously, exchanging whispers blatantly, wondering what had transpired back at the Department of Mysteries. It especially didn't help when the latest edition of the Daily Prophet had Harry's grieving face flashing front and center, an article underneath how the ministry finally accepted the rebirth of Voldemort and hailed Harry as the 'lone voice of truth'.

Hermes had burned every edition he had seen, still furious that the ministry had to discredit him and Dumbledore for a whole year just because they were in denial. Now, Sirius Black was dead and it could have been prevented if they believed Harry in the first place.

Shaking those thoughts away, Hermes told himself he'd study until his brain bled just to distract himself. Harry was almost a shell, blindly walking around the halls of Hogwarts, and they could barely talk to him. Hermes understood he was grieving the only family he had ever got, and wanted to be left alone in his grief.

The library doors were in sight and Hermes hastened his pace. At least, inside, he knew he'd be shielded from the unfolding atrocities of this world.

Before he could step in, a hand suddenly pulled him inside a broom cupboard. He yelped in surprise and tried to pull out his wand, but the sight of Iris Malfoy's furious eyes stunned him into place.

The broom cupboard wasn't big enough; she was crammed in between him and the cupboard wall. His senses filled with a flowery scent that was almost dizzying and try as he might to move away, he couldn't.

"Bloody hell, Malfoy!" he harshly whispered in the dark.

The light outside the hallways were their only light source, seeping through the cracks of the broom cupboard, so Hermes couldn't entirely see her face. All he could see were her eyes, glistening too brightly in the dark, and with widened eyes, he wondered if she had been crying.

"Are you happy now?" she asked, her voice high and quivering. "Did you finally get your revenge?"

He stilled. Although the article of Harry and the other members of Dumbledore's Army were at the very front page of the Daily Prophet, crammed at the rightmost corner was another article about the imprisonment of prominent figures in this society, including Lucius Malfoy, due to being identified as a Death Eater.

"He's…" he started, hesitantly looking into her eyes. "He tried to kill us, Malfoy."

He remembered the vicious spells that Lucius Malfoy threw into their direction, desperate to get the prophecy about Harry and Voldemort. It was plain to see that the older Malfoy's intention was to get it at all cost, not minding to take a life here or there if the situation required it.

Iris Malfoy started quivering in the dark. Her usual guarded eyes now showed emotions, _too_ much emotions, that Hermes weren't able to understand. Tears formed in her eyes and tumbled down her cheeks and he watched, dumbfounded, as she started breaking down before his eyes.

He grabbed her wrist and held on tight. Iris released a gasp and tried to pull away but he held on. "You don't have to follow his footsteps," he pleaded, his voice sounding shaky and too desperate for him to understand. "You don't… you don't have to be evil like him, Malfoy."

The Slytherin released a hollow laugh and viciously glared through her wet eyes. "You don't know what you're talking about," she whispered through the dark.

"I do," he replied earnestly. "I do, Malfoy."

"No, you don't," she harshly replied. "You don't know _anything_ about me. My life hasn't been easy, Granger. Do you honestly think my life was easy because I got everything? Because I'm a _fucking_ Pureblood? Walking away from everything… it's a death sentence. If I do… I die and…" She got choked up and harshly took numerous, shallow breaths.

The cupboard was crampy, her heaving chest pressed firmly against his. Hermes was tempted to reach at her, to mollify her, but he wasn't entirely sure how.

"I…" he started, finally settling to put his hand on top of her head. "I never assumed your life was easy, Malfoy. You're not… you're not _happy_. I see it in your eyes every day, masking it with hate and anger." He took a deep breath and stared squarely into her eyes. "It might suck being someone you're really not in order to please the people you love, yeah?"

Malfoy froze, her eyes turning steely, before she roughly pushed him away. His head collided loudly against the cupboard wall, blinding pain shooting through his skull. Despite his painful haze, he watched as Iris managed to school all of her emotions once more and deftly wiped away the remnants of her breakdown.

"Never assume anything about me, _mudblood_ ," she bitingly hissed with a glare. "You will never understand."

She furiously tore the cupboard door open and stumbled outside.

Hermes stayed inside for a few more moments, trying to compose himself.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all know that canon!Hermione's patronus is an otter but I really wanted to change it to properly suit my own version of male!Hermione. I think a big, brown bear suits Hermes Granger, don't you think? :)


	6. Sixth Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this chapter very, very much. Please be kind hahaha

Harry hadn't been the same.

As he shot his silent best friend a sideway glance, The-Boy-Who-Lived kept his face behind a mask of mild irritation and indifference. But Hermes had been best friends with the bloke for years. He knew of the inner turmoil swirling inside his heart, waiting for a trigger that would make him explode.

"Snape as the new DADA professor," Ron quipped with a frown, oblivious to the ticking bomb standing beside him. "I still can't wrap my head around the fact that smarmy git is teaching anything besides Potions. Honestly, after that Umbridge fiasco last year, I was hoping DADA would be better this year."

"At least we'll be able to practice with wands," Hermes offered, finally deciding that dwelling on Harry's worrisome behavior would lead him nowhere. "Besides, you'd seen him duel back in second year. He is… capable, for lack of a better word."

"Duelling against _Lockhart_ , Hermes, blimey," Ron said with a derisive snort. "Any wizard you pit against that slimy peacock would surely look capable enough."

The corner of his mouth twitched, reminiscing their second year DADA professor. Admittedly, he was blinded by his lies in his books; _Merlin_ , that man could really embellish his words enough to make everything believable! Hermes had high regards for him, even briefly considering him as one of his heroes, until said professor was actually a fraud with brilliant skills on Memory Charm.

Hermes glanced at his silent best friend once more. "Do you think Snape is a good teacher for Defense, Harry?" he softly asked.

Harry rapidly blinked, snapping off whatever reverie he was in, and distractedly looked at Hermes. "Probably," he simply said. "I dunno."

Hermes glanced at Ron. The redhead merely sighed and shook his head, seemingly at loss on how to interact with Harry nowadays too. Hermes was just thankful that Harry was still accompanying them anywhere they went. He worried what he would do if he was left alone, and made Ron promise that they'd be with Harry through and through whatever happened this year.

They finally arrived at the Great Hall. Ron was practically brimming with excitement upon the sight of the feast, briskly walking away from his best friends to start piling food onto his plate.

In spite of himself, Hermes smiled. At least Ron hadn't changed, despite the atrocities they had witnessed back at the Department of Mysteries.

Hermes looked down at Harry once more. He'd grown a few inches taller this summer again and was practically the same height with Ron. Harry, though, seemed to stop growing since last year. He was thinner, too, and Hermes frowned, vowing to force food into his mouth just to keep him energized. With Voldemort now prowling the streets, Harry couldn't afford to get sick.

"Harry…" he said, but Harry already held up a hand.

"Save it, Hermes," he grumbled, mild annoyance flitting on his face. "I'm fine."

Hermes grabbed onto his shoulder to stop him from walking. The bespectacled wizard hesitantly glanced at his eyes, and for a moment, Hermes saw the true grief behind his emerald eyes. Swallowing a worried lump, Hermes hastily looped an arm over Harry's neck and crashed him against his chest.

"Harry," he started once more, "you know that we're willing to listen when you need someone to talk to, yeah?"

"Geroff, 'Ermes," he said, his voice muffled against his chest.

Hermes sighed and hesitantly loosened his grip. Harry playfully glared at him and muttered "Wanker" under his breath before slipping beside Ron. The curly-haired brunet fondly smiled at Harry's disheveled raven hair, noting the hint of a smile on Harry's face.

Hermes then slipped on the bench beside Harry and started to pile food onto his plate. Ron was already halfway to finishing his second serving, hastily cleaning everything on his plate to get his third heaping. Harry, on the other hand, hadn't touched his food yet and was instead staring off at a distance.

"Harry," Hermes pointed out. "You have to eat."

But his best friend seemed not to hear him. He followed his line of vision and was surprised to see that Harry was looking over the Slytherin table, specifically at Iris Malfoy.

His heart skipped a beat, remembering their strange encounter back in fifth year.

" _Walking away from everything… it's a death sentence._ "

He suddenly lost his appetite and scowled down at his plate.

Ever since sixth year started, it wasn't only Harry who was acting strange. Hermes found himself staring at the Slytherin, too, quietly noting that the dark bags under her eyes were more prominent. Her grey eyes were dull and empty, like she was walking the hallways like a zombie rather than confidently sashaying as a Pureblood Royalty. Weeks already passed since the start of school-year but the blonde still hadn't dropped a single scathing remark his way or visited him in the library without any decent excuse but to torment him.

It was… it was _worrisome_ , maybe a tad worrisome than Harry's behavior. At least, Hermes was able to keep an eye on Harry and butt in every time he thought Harry was slowly spiraling out of control. But Malfoy… Crabbe and Goyle still reverently stayed by her side, but there was a new addition to her little posse. Now, Zabini and Nott always accompanied her everywhere she went, seemingly protective of the strangely silent Slytherin. It brought Hermes some slight comfort that at least, Malfoy wasn't alone, even though she might have thought she was.

"What are you blokes looking at?" Ron asked, glancing at the direction of their gazes. His jaw dropped in surprise. " _Malfoy_?"

Iris' eyes flickered towards their group, and they all hastily looked away.

"Malfoy's seriously acting strange," Harry furiously whispered, his eyebrows knitting together.

"Drop it, mate," Hermes casually said, a hint of warning in his voice.

Harry glanced at him with a frown. "She isn't the same, I'm telling you," he insisted. He surreptitiously glanced around, making sure that no one was eavesdropping. "I think… I think she's been Branded."

Ron choked on his pumpkin juice. Hermes wound his arm over Harry's back to reach Ron's, thumping his back until his coughing fit stopped. "What the fuck, Harry?" Ron furiously whispered under his breath. "You mean like a… like a _Death Eater_?"

"That's preposterous!" Hermes claimed, but even he could hear the doubt in his voice.

"You know it isn't too farfetched, Hermes," Harry sternly insisted. "If Lucius was one… well, the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree, yeah?"

" _You don't have to follow his footsteps."_

Swallowing down the irrational panic that rose through his throat, he shot a withering glare at Harry. "You can't go around accusing anyone acting shady they're Death Eaters," he shot back in annoyance.

"But she is acting really shady," Ron pointed out with a contemplating frown. "I mean… their whole family's practically shady. Both her father and her aunt are Death Eaters, too."

Upon the mention of Bellatrix Lestrange, Harry grew very still. Ron realized his slip and sheepishly met Hermes' disappointed scowl.

"Harry…"

" _No_ , I know she's a Death Eater," Harry said with newfound vehemence. He threw a quick glance at Iris' direction and growled. "I am going to prove it to you." He then viciously tore through his meal, suddenly invigorated with a new mission.

Hermes glanced back at his meal and hoped that Harry wasn't right.

" _You will never understand."_

* * *

Admittedly, Snape was a more brilliant Potions Master than Slughorn, but at least, the latter wasn't antagonistic to non-Slytherin students.

Professor Slughorn was a jolly, old man with a rounded belly and obvious love for crystallized pineapple. He always had one on his desk and would munch on them from time to time. He was absolutely fair too, giving points to those who deserved it. Even Neville started getting higher marks for his Potions essays, with suggestions on how to improve.

 _Still_ , Snape was better at making Potions. Slughorn always followed every instruction, word for word, on how to make potions. Snape, on the other hand, made little tweaks that interested Hermes. He never shared his improvisations, though, deducting points hither thither when he found out that they weren't following the instructions to the dot.

As they strolled for another Potions lesson, a wonderful smell met his nose. He sniffed around, trying to locate the source of the smell, but couldn't find it anywhere.

"Merlin, why does it smell like a feast here?" Ron exclaimed, his blue eyes alit with positive delight.

"No, it doesn't," Hermes pointed out matter-of-factly. "It smells like freshly mown grass." A small smile appeared on his face, remembering the summers where his father would prod him to mow their small garden back home, knowing it was the only chore Hermes adored.

Harry gave them a surprised look. "What?" he said. "I smell something wooden! Like… like the wooden handle of a broomstick."

"Hmm," Hermes murmured in interest, bringing his book down on their usual desk in the Potions classroom. Harry easily claimed the middle seat, while Ron took the other side. The-Boy-Who-Lived placed his tattered Potions textbook in front of him, prompting Hermes to frown. "You're still using _that_?"

The bespectacled wizard protectively covered the book's ratty cover with his hand. "Why not?" he shot back. "It is helpful."

Hermes was about to tell him that he shouldn't trust strange books that easily, but Professor Slughorn took that moment to stride out of his quarters.

He beamed brightly at both Hermes and Harry. Harry shifted his gaze away in discomfort while Hermes quietly sighed under his breath. The professor was notorious for collecting students like trophies for future connections. Sneaky little thing to do, but then of course, he had been known as a brilliant Slytherin.

"Good morning, class," he boomed, greedy eyes searching through the room of Gryffindor and Slytherin sixth year students. Hermes guessed that when his eyes lingered longer than a minute, Slughorn might already be imaging what great connections that student would forge for him in the future.

"Today, we are going to learn about love potions," he continued, clasping both of his hands in front of him in excitement. Excited murmurs ran around the room as Slughorn pulled his wand. With a wave of his wand, the cauldron in front of him was uncovered.

The smell Hermes identify a while ago was now in full blast, recognizing other pleasant smells, before his eyes widened in realization.

"Can anyone tell me what this potion is?" he asked.

Hermes' hand was in the air before Slughorn could finish his sentence.

A pleased smile grew on Slughorn's pudgy face when his eyes landed on Hermes. "Yes, Mr. Granger?" he asked.

"Amortentia," he said without skipping a beat, "said to be the most powerful love potion in the world."

"Very good, Mr. Granger," he said. "Take twenty points to Gryffindor." He walked towards the cauldron of love potion and glanced around the room, his eyes twinkling under the dim lights of the classroom. "If I may, I believe Amortentia is one of the most dangerous potions in the world. Dagworth-Granger stated that powerful infatuations can be induced by the skillful potioneer, such as Amortentia, but never yet has anyone managed to create the truly remarkable, unconditional attachment – _love_."

He gestured at the cauldron once more, a warning in his eyes. "Amortentia, although the most powerful, cannot mimic true love but only a powerful infatuation – one that caused numerous deaths and tragedies in the past." He raised an eyebrow at Theodore Nott, who was snickering behind his hand. "You may laugh, Mr. Nott, for it is absolutely preposterous. But, never underestimate a powerful infatuation."

This effectively shut up the Slytherin, now sheepishly glancing down his wooden desk. Hermes glanced at the other Slytherin sitting beside him, but Iris Malfoy wasn't paying any attention. Her eyes were gazing outside the vast window in the dungeons, seemingly lost in thought.

"Now, can anyone tell me how Amortentia works?" Slughorn quipped.

As usual, it was only Hermes' hand in the air.

"All right, Mr. Granger," he said with an indulgent grin. "Do go on."

"Amortentia smells differently to people," he recited. "It will smell depending on what the person finds most attractive, knowledgable or unaware the person might be. A single drop is all it takes for the potion to take effect. The downside with this love potion, like any other love potions really, is that you have to continuously give it since the potion's effects wear off over time."

He beamed so widely Hermes wondered if it hurt his cheeks. "Blimey, Mr. Granger, are you quite sure you aren't related to Dagworth-Granger himself?" he asked.

Hermes meekly shook his head. "I'm Muggleborn, Professor," he said.

"There's always a magical relative somewhere in the previous generations," Slughorn said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "You might as well be with that delightful brain of yours. Take another twenty points for Gryffindor."

He clasped his hands again and placed it on top of his bloated belly. "Now, like what Mr. Granger pointed out a while ago, Amortentia smells differently to people, too." He beamed brightly at Hermes once more. "Mr. Granger, why don't you tell us what you're smelling."

He felt a little embarrassed as all eyes landed on him. "Err…" He took a sniff once more. "Freshly mown grass, new parchment, toffees, and… and…" He took a deep sniff once more, trying to identify the last smell he was getting from the love potion. "Something… _flowery_ , but I can't really identify it."

As Professor Slughorn moved around and asked for the smells identified by his other classmates, Hermes tried to make sense of that mysterious scent he was smelling from the love potion. Obviously, freshly mown grass depicted home, new parchment was his excitement every time he had to do a new essay, and toffee as his most favorite candy in the world. The flowery scent, though… well, it was annoyingly _familiar_ , yet he still could not put a name on it.

Slughorn then magically wrote instructions on how to make a love potion on the blackboard. It was a weaker kind than Amortentia, seeing that brewing it was highly illegal in the first place. Still, it would do the trick.

His mind was deeply bothered by the mysterious scent all throughout the lesson as he mechanically chopped and stirred and heated. He didn't even mind Harry, who was obviously following wrong instructions from that old, suspicious Potions book of his and still brewing it perfectly.

He was distracted until the end of classes ( _still_ , he managed to brew a perfect potion which was perhaps a little behind Harry's, the Potions Prodigy).

Hermes was now putting back the other ingredients back on the cupboard when Malfoy bumped into him. The jar of slugs he was holding came crashing down on the floor.

"Watch it, Malfoy," he said, brandishing out his wand and glaring at her back.

The Slytherin didn't seem to notice, her long hair billowing behind her back as she briskly exited the room.

And then… and then something flowery teased his nose and he paled.

Darting a horrified glance at the Amortentia potion that Professor Slughorn was already keeping, Hermes took another slow sniff.

"Holy Mother of – "

His words left him, too dumbfounded with his new revelation.

"Clumsy are we?" Ron snickered, sidling beside him as he deftly spelled the broken glasses together. "You're welcome, by the way."

Harry peered at his terrified face. "What's gotten into you?" he asked.

"I bet he's too shocked to discover that you're outshining him in Potions," Ron joked.

The-Boy-Who-Lived rolled his eyes, a small smile growing on his face. "Really, Granger, not everything should be about you," he said, playfully swinging an arm over his shoulders and dragging him out of the room, a snickering Ron trailing closely behind.

* * *

She failed once again.

The ominous Vanishing Cabinet stood tall and proud, as if mocking her that she had miserably failed. Her wand hand shook as she took a step back, heavy emotions stirring up her stomach. The iron cage standing beside the cabinet held dead birds, lying silently on the ground, unable to fly free anymore.

Iris couldn't understand why she kept on failing and _failing_. She had researched about fixing the cabinet extensively. She'd consulted experts, shipped dark artifacts that would instantly land her to Azkaban if discovered, and she'd thwarted all of her bloody schoolwork just to fix the damned cabinet.

' _It cannot be fixed,'_ a voice whispered inside her head. _'It cannot be fixed. You're dead. You're dead. You're dead.'_

The Slytherin took a deep shuddering breath and stumbled away, her eyes already clouding with horrified tears.

When she emerged out from the Room of Requirement, Crabbe and Goyle were questioningly looking at her for her next command. Just this once, Iris desperately wished they could say something, _anything_ , to bring comfort to her heart. But as usual, the two brutes were mute and lost until she barked another order.

"Leave me," she whispered, facing away so as not to show her tears.

They didn't need to be told twice and immediately clambered away. Her heart dropped to her stomach at the thought that she was alone once more. Blaise and Theo were being extra nice to her this year, cajoling her to tell them what her problem was, but how could she burden them more?

 _No_ , this was her own curse to bear. Nobody needs to know.

Breakdowns had been explosive for her for the past few months. The trigger of it all started at that stupid broom cupboard, Granger's worried honey-colored eyes piercing into her soul. Iris constantly wondered what if she grasped onto that hope he kept on yammering about, but extinguished any positivity before it festered and swallowed her whole.

 _No_ , nobody needs to know.

She blindly ran through the corridors, thankful that most of the students were still at the Great Hall finishing their dinner. Merlin knows what she would have done if somebody saw the mighty, arrogant, Slytherin Princess Iris Malfoy falling apart, despair in her eyes.

There was only one place where she knew she was safe from prying eyes. Moaning Myrtle was a pestering ghost, but she listened and empathized, telling her how she'd met a great tragedy too and even invited her over the female loo on the second floor if things didn't work out great for Iris in this lifetime.

She almost collapsed near the entrance of the abandoned loo but trudged on until she reached the sinks. Iris glanced at her tear-stained face, unable to recognize the reflection staring back at her. This wasn't her; the person staring back at her was terrified and gaunt, exhaustion and fear shining through her dull, grey eyes, with her hair disheveled and dark bags under her eyes.

An angry sob escaped from her lips once more as she tightly closed her eyes, unable to look at her reflection any longer.

This was all of her father's fault. _All of it_. If he hadn't blindly followed a sociopath, she wouldn't be in this position in the first place. The betrayal of knowing that her great hero was actually a greedy, stupid man, blinded by promises of power in a man that did not care anything but himself. It still angered her how Voldemort revealed once she had seen him at their home, but _Lucius_ Obliviated her memory so as not to spout the secrets being exchanged among the Death Eaters. It was only when Lucius got himself locked up at Azkaban when Voldemort knew it was finally time for Iris Malfoy to step up and be the noblest of all Purebloods of her generation.

She was chosen, he said.

It was a great privilege, he added.

And she knew, deep down, that if she were to refuse, terrible things would befall upon her family. Iris wasn't brave enough to pull away because she knew... she knew she had no other choice.

Her left arm felt heavy and itchy, and Iris was tempted to scratch it raw until that menacing Dark Mark was disfigured. She once prided herself to be scar-free; no taints nor disfigurements to be deemed as a worthy Pureblood bride. Now… _now_ , the vilest tattoo she could ever imagine was stamped on her left arm, forever reminding her of what she'd become.

"Iris?"

Moaning Myrtle flew overhead, a look of concerned sympathy on her face.

"I wish to be alone," the Slytherin said, turning her face away to hide her despair.

"Maybe you need a friend today?" the ghost softly asked.

Iris took a deep shuttering breath. "Leave," she shakily snarled. "I said I wanted to be alone."

The ghost took offense and harrumphed loudly, wailing loudly how no one wanted to be her friend anymore and she was all alone, and dove into one of the toilets.

' _Alone,'_ the damned voice in her head whispered in the dead silence of the bathroom. _'You have no one. You'e alone. Alone. Alone.'_

"Stop," she cried, her sobs turning guttural as she covered her ears. "Stop it, _please_. I can't… I-I can't do it. Please. Please, I can't."

She slid down the wet tiled floor, covering her face with both of her hands. She wished Narcissa was here with her now. Her mother had brought great comfort during the days after her Branding. Her mother had never shed a tear when Lucius was imprisoned. She had held her head high, looking at all the Death Eaters in the eye who wished to harm Voldemort's new recruit. She had been fiercely protective of her, promising her that she'd conceive a plan, promising her that all will be all right in the end and she must hold on… hold on even though everything seemed hopeless.

Iris mourned all the days she ignored her mother, thinking that she was some docile Pureblood wife who only knew about keeping the house orderly and bearing an heir for her Pureblood husband. Iris should have looked up at Narcissa more; perhaps, if her blind idolatry to her father had never existed, she wouldn't be in this situation in the first place.

But, it was too late for regrets now. She was tasked to fix an impossible cabinet and to kill the only wizard Voldemort feared.

It was too much, and she was all alone.

* * *

"Malfoy isn't at dinner," Harry pointed out firmly, glancing at the Slytherin table.

"Not this again, Harry," Hermes groaned, also glancing at the Slytherin table to see that Harry was right after all. "Just because she's absent during dinner _one time_ doesn't mean she's branded."

Harry looked at Ron with a frown. "You do believe me that it is possible that Malfoy's a… a You-Know-What, right, Ron?" he urged.

Hermes gave the redhead a levelled glare. Poor Ron had his spoon dangling in the air, a spoonful of clam chowder still left uneaten. "Think _very_ careful of what you'll reply to that, Ronald," he warned, crossing his arms across his chest.

Ron scowled and almost threw his spoon back onto his bowl of soup. "Bloody hell, mates, I'm just trying to eat here in peace, _Merlin_!" he snapped, viciously grabbing onto his friend chicken and tearing it with force, emphasizing that he didn't want to get in between their stupid row.

"Why are you even so adamant that she would never become one, Hermes?" Harry asked. "She's evil and scary and _brilliant_. Voldemort would want her in his circle of fanatics."

Hermes curled his hands into fists and frowned. "Because… because it's wrong," he lamely replied, not entirely sure himself. "She's just a child."

"Who've hurt a lot of people in this school. Especially _you_."

Harry had a point. Malfoy had been nothing but antagonistic to them throughout their life in Hogwarts. She had been petty and annoying and evil and scary and arrogant. If he were to point out someone who would most likely be a Death Eater in their generation, Malfoy would surely be at the very top of his lists.

But then, there were moments when light would shine through her face, doing random things that didn't make _sense to him_ , making his heart beat faster than normal, and being all _radiant_ and… and…

Hermes felt his cheek redden as a dark scowl settled on his face. Ever since he discovered that he smelled _her hair_ in Amortentia, Hermes' head had been a jumbled mess. He could not understand how he could be attracted to someone with an evil spirit. Malfoy's sole purpose in life was to make his life a living hell, remember? It didn't make any sense.

Predicting a forming headache, Hermes knew that the only way to calm himself down was to surround himself with books. Books held answers and logic. In the library, Hermes could never feel confused.

"I'm going to the library," he finally announced, pushing his half-empty plate with a deep sigh. "I've lost my appetite."

Harry gave him a confused glance. "Weren't you just pestering me to eat as much as possible because Voldemort may come in anytime and we need all the energy we could get?" he asked.

Hermes gave him a small smile and shook his head. "I have my handy toffees in my pocket, Potter," he lightly joked. "I'll get by."

Before either Ron or Harry could protest, he slung the strap of his satchel over his shoulder and walked out of the Great Hall.

Hermes busied himself into thinking what his agenda would be in the library tonight. He had finished all schoolworks needed for the week. Now, he had to mentally project his timetable for next week so that he knew where he would sit closer.

Imagining the nice, hidden corner near the Potions section immediately went out of his head once he caught sight of Iris Malfoy's billowing, shiny hair. Her face was half-hidden as she hastily ran down from the moving staircases. Her usual cronies were not there; even Blaise and Theo were nowhere in sight.

A part of him knew it wasn't a good idea to follow. Malfoy might even accuse him of stalking her if she caught sight of him. But, curiosity got the best of him, and before he could properly dwell on his actions, he was blindly following her wherever she was going.

His eyes bulged out from their sockets when he recognized the abandoned girl's loo on the second floor. Memories of a botched up Polyjuice Potion and a teasing Moaning Myrtle rushed back into his mind as he slid behind one cubicle, trying to discover what Malfoy was up to.

He froze when an unmistakable sob echoed in the dark, dank room. He at first thought it was Moaning Myrtle, but when another came, he realized such anguished cries came from Malfoy, seemingly unable to stop.

He heard Moaning Myrtle above the uncharacteristic noises Malfoy was making, but the ghost was harshly pushed aside and Iris Malfoy was left alone once more.

He sneaked a peek and saw her helplessly crying on the wet floor and something foreign in his heart rose up and gripped very, very tight. Hermes didn't know what to do as the Slytherin blonde slowly broke down before his eyes.

He tried to see if she was hurt or she was in pain, his brown eyes immediately darting all over her face and her body just to see if she was well.

All breath seemed to be knocked off his chest when his eyes finally landed on her bare left forearm, the Dark Mark glinting menacingly at his direction.

* * *

Her wand was instantly on her hand when she heard a gasp.

"Who's there?" she snarled, blood freezing at the thought that someone had witnessed the great and mighty Iris Malfoy breaking down. She hoped against hope it was Moaning Myrtle, but the said ghost was nowhere to be seen.

She stilled, the unmistakable sound of footsteps pattering against the puddles on the wet floor. She blindly shot a hex before she saw the intruder's face, but a shimmering _Protego_ erected a blue shield to cover him.

Her heart lodged into her throat upon seeing Hermes Granger, the expression on his face indecipherable. Iris desperately tried to scramble back onto her feet, shouting various hexes and curses she could think just to immobilize him. The plan was to hex him unconscious so that she could _Obliviate_ his memory of ever seeing her like this, but _damn him_ , he deftly sidestepped her poorly aimed spells or hastily spelled shield charms just to keep him unscathed.

Iris shakily took a step back, her back meeting the cold brim of the sink, and was horrified to note that he was mere meters away. Granger was heaving deeply, exhausted by his constant barrage of defensive spells, and she finally saw the thunderous expression on his face.

Before she could think of an escape plan, he shot forward and grabbed onto her left arm.

His expression was murderous, trained intently on her left forearm, and that was when Iris realized that her left sleeve wasn't covering that vile tattoo on her arm.

Iris took a shaky breath and felt nauseous, desperately pulling her arm to shield her embarrassment away, but Granger held on tighter.

"You're… you…" He looked sickly himself, but there was still a murderous glint in his eyes. His honey-colored eyes shifted quickly to her glistening greys, and Iris wondered if all the secrecy and sneaking around this school-year had finally come to an end. She felt remorseful about what happened to Madame Rosmerta, to Katie Bell… to _freaking_ Ronald Weasley, all because she needed to fulfill Voldemort's order. A huge part of her felt terrified of the idea of being punished for her wrongdoings but there was small, tiny part that felt relieved because finally, _finally_ it could all end.

"This cannot be," he whispered breathlessly. "You're just a child."

With a jolt, she realized he wasn't furious at _her_ but of what had happened to her. He was furious she was suddenly branded like a cattle, ready for slaughter. He was furious that a sixteen-year-old… a _bloody_ sixteen-year-old suddenly found herself in a situation that no child should ever undergo.

A horrified sob escaped from her lips and try as she might to keep them inside, they continued to pour out with a vengeance.

"You don't deserve this, Malfoy," he said, his fury melting into something akin to sympathy, and her heart started to hurt.

Iris slumped forward, her other hand grasping onto her heart, because it was painful.

It was painful to breathe, painful to feel.

"I-I can't do this," she earnestly cried. "I can't. I can't do this. This is too much. Too much."

She gasped when he pulled her towards him and tried to shoot another spell in his direction, but instant warmth spread throughout her body when her head landed on his chest, his arms tightly wrapped around her.

He whispered senseless babbles against her ear; she was too distraught to understand. But he was warm, _so_ warm and safe and Iris grasped onto the back of his muggle sweater, holding on to him like he was the only thing keeping her from spiralling out of control.

* * *

"I've finished my essay."

Hermes rapidly blinked and looked down at the parchment in front of Harry. "Hmm… okay," he said, idly lifting his quill and dipped it into the inkwell. He glanced at the library window and caught sight of a familiar blonde hair, but when it turned out to be a fourth year Ravenclaw, Hermes sighed, abandoned his quill all together, and placed his chin on top of his upturned palm.

Suddenly, there was rapid snapping of fingers within his line of vision. He scowled and waved Ron's hand away. "Bloody hell," he murmured.

Harry and Ron exchanged amused glances.

"Something's definitely wrong, all right," Ron said with a reverent nod, looking at Hermes as if he was sick and dying.

Harry's wand was then pointed at his face. Before Hermes could react, Harry already murmured a soft _'Finite Incantatem'_. "Nope, definitely not bewitched, too," Harry told Ron. "So – "

" – it's a girl, then – "

" – definitely a girl, mate," Ron said, a huge smile spreading on his freckled face. "Definitely a girl."

He felt his cheeks burning before he could compose himself. "What in Merlin's name are you talking about?" he hotly asked, trying not to meet Harry and Ron's gazes in case they read what was going through his mind and went absolutely ballistic.

"Distracted blokes like that usually think about… _bloke_ stuff," Ron said matter-of-factly. A sneaky grin appeared on his face and playfully bumped shoulders with him. "Naughty stuff, perhaps?"

Hermes' eyes widened while Harry snickered under his breath. "Hermes Granger, finally coming to the dark side?" the Boy-Who-Lived asked.

The curly-haired Gryffindor scowled and roughly pushed Ron away. "What the hell are you talking about?" he said, sheer annoyance on his face. "I'm trying to study here."

"Oh Merlin, he got it so bad," Ron gleefully exclaimed, grabbing onto Harry's arm like an excited puppy. "He'd been merely _trying_ , Harry. Trying!"

Hermes groaned and ran a hand through his face. "Quit it, you gits," he said through gritted teeth, angrily grabbing onto his quill again and resumed scribbling on the parchment with dizzying speed.

At the corner of his eyes, he saw Harry and Ron exchanging another puzzled glance.

"So… it's not a girl, then?" Harry quipped.

"No, of course not," he snapped a little too quickly. "I've been trying to come up with a decent end of semester project for Potions class that will be important during our NEWTs next year. Sorry if I've been a little distracted about it."

"Oh," Ron said, making a face. "Boringgg." He grabbed onto the new edition of his Qudditch magazine and lazily browsed through it.

"Have _you_ finished your essay, Ronald?" Hermes grumbled under his breath.

The redhead waved a dismissive hand. "Later, I'm on a break," he said with an disgruntled sigh.

Hermes glanced at his parchment and rolled his eyes, noting that Ron had only his name, date, and the title of his essay written on it.

"You've barely written anything," he pointed out.

Ron groaned and completely covered his face with the magazine. "It took me ten minutes to come up with a decent title, Hermes," he complained. "Give this bloke a break."

Hermes sighed, too tired to argue, and corrected a misspelt word on Ron's title with a wave of his wand.

He then looked back at his essay and forced himself to finish it, blocking other dangerous thoughts that had nothing to do with his essay.

To his surprise, Harry placed a hand on his parchment, halting his writing. Hermes frowned and lifted his eyes.

Harry looked serious right now, all hint of his playful teasing now gone from his eyes. "You really okay, mate?" he asked, his emerald eyes turning worried.

For a moment, he allowed memories of last night to slip into his mind. He remembered Malfoy's anguished cries. He remembered the stark, menacing tattoo against her fair skin. He remembered the feel of her against his arms, trembling and desperate and so… _so_ terrified.

Hermes swallowed a lump and put a shutter against all those thoughts. "Yeah, Harry, I'm okay," he said with a weak smile. Harry had too much on his plate right now; Dumbledore's been snagging him during late nights, showing memories about Slughorn and Tom Riddle. Harry was hinting that Dumbledore was about to reveal probably one of the most important details to Voldemort's power, if only they could talk to Slughorn about that vital piece of information.

So, _no_ , Hermes could not tell Harry no matter how much he wanted to. Ron, on the other hand, would never understand. With his emotional range of a teaspoon, he'd throw a monumental fit and demand to throw Malfoy in Azkaban. Harry… Harry would be more understanding, perhaps. But with Sirius' death…

Harry still looked wholly unconvinced but finally nodded his head and went back to the textbook he was reading.

Hermes took a deep, stuttering breath, willing his mind to be free of any other thoughts of Malfoy, before going back to his essay.

Harry and Ron bid their goodbye later that night since they had to go to Quidditch Practice. Ron was finally Keeper for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, which, _admittedly_ Hermes tweaked a bit in favor of his best friend. His other opponent, Cormac McLaggen was loads better than Ron but Merlin, he was insufferable. It gave Hermes the satisfaction to see the huge disappointment on the older Gryffindor's face. Harry had been hinting ever since that he knew Hermes had something to do about Ron's position, but he never confirmed anything.

It was nearing curfew when Hermes finally decided to return to the Common Room. Blessedly, he was able to finish his essays and was on time with his schedule. He had successfully blocked anything about Malfoy, but Hermes feared he wouldn't be lucky anymore now that he had nothing to distract himself with.

As he fixed his things, Hermes started to wonder what was the sole reason why Malfoy was branded. It was clear to him that she was unwilling. Hermes feared for Harry's life; if Voldemort had a follower inside the walls of Hogwarts, it would be disastrous. It wasn't difficult for him to finally pin all the strange happenings that befell on Katie Bell and Madame Rosmerta to Malfoy. Only an affluent Pureblood family that dabbled on the Dark Arts would have access to accursed objects like that necklace.

When he finally walked out of the library door, Hermes firmly promised himself he would seek out Malfoy once more and demand answers from her. Maybe, he could also persuade her to ask help from someone like Dumbledore. It wasn't too late for her, _never_ for her, and Hermes would be damned if she ended up following the footsteps of her father.

He yelped in surprise as a sudden hand grabbed his arm and pulled him inside the broom cupboard near the library.

"Malfoy!" he hissed, because of course it would be her.

Said blonde was now crammed against him, her grey eyes looking anywhere the dim cupboard but him.

Hermes stilled and immediately pocketed his hand, grasping for the wooden end of his wand. Truthfully, he had been on guard for the whole day, wondering if there would be nasty hexes or memory charms thrown his way. It was bloody suspicious that none had come, especially because this was Iris Malfoy.

"If you breathed about what happened last night to other people, I swear Granger you will not live another day," she said with a thinly veiled threat in her voice. She snapped her grey eyes back into his and pierced him with a stern glare. "Forget everything that happened last night. _Nothing_ happened."

He expelled a soft sigh and shook his head. "Something happened, Malfoy," he whispered as calmly as possible. "What happened last night… what I _saw_ last night" – she stilled in the cupboard – "it's not something I can easily forget."

"Then try, for Merlin's sake," she hissed.

Hermes darted a glance at her covered left forearm, a look of sadness seeping through his eyes. "I can't, Malfoy," he repeated. "I've seen it. I can't just turn a blind eye."

She was starting to panic, a wild look now in her eyes. "So what? You'll report me to the ministry? Rat me out to your precious Dumbledore?" she harshly whispered, starting to quiver in the dark. "'Oh, Headmaster, I just dropped by to tell you that Malfoy's a Death Eater. Oh, yes, Professor, I'm talking about the _daughter_.'"

"No," he hastily replied, shutting her up. He pinned her with a stern glare. "Not like that." He tentative placed a hand on her shoulder, prompting her to stiffen under his touch. "You have to tell someone, Malfoy. This is… it's too much of a responsibility, and before you can act all defensive and spout stupid lies, claiming that you can handle _everything_ , I don't think…" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them once more, Malfoy's eyes were connected with his. He couldn't understand the emotion in them, but at least she wasn't angry anymore. "I don't think the girl I held in my arms last night is handling everything alone."

Silence fell between the two students except for Malfoy's suddenly ragged breathing.

"Dumbledore cannot help," she finally dully replied.

"Yes, he _can_ ," he insisted, hope blooming in his heart when she didn't turn around and walk away. "He will help you."

A soft, hollow laugh escaped from her lips. "And steal him from your precious Potter?" she bitingly asked. "Dumbledore has too much on his plate right now, Granger. He need to set his priorities and I'm sure I am not part of it."

"How can you say that about yourself?" he asked, growing annoyed. "You're still a bloody student here in Hogwarts, Malfoy. Of course Dumbledore will do everything he can to help you."

She stared back at him, a small sad smile on her face. "You put too much faith in such a manipulative fool," she whispered matter-of-factly.

"Malfoy – "

"Shut up, Granger," she grounded out. "Shut up. Just shut up."

She was quivering like a leaf once more and Hermes wanted to scream. It was obvious that whatever she was tasked to do was taking a toll on her. It… it _angers_ him how the confident, snarky blonde he grew up with was vastly different from the frightened child with too wide eyes in this broom cupboard.

Iris suddenly grabbed onto both of his arms, much to his surprise. Slowly, she placed her head against his chest and took a deep, shaky breath, finally wounding her arms around his torso.

"W-what are you doing?" he stuttered, cheeks flooding with embarrassment and an emotion that always seemed to stir up when she was in the vicinity. His senses were filled by her flowery scent, it was dizzying.

"Shut up, Granger," she weakly repeated, tightening her arms around him.

Her shoulders were trembling, her breaths turning harsh and ragged. Hermes concluded this day had been bad, too. Perhaps, worse than last night and Malfoy… Malfoy didn't want to feel alone.

He lifted his arms and hesitantly wrapped it around her shoulders. Iris froze for a moment, stopped breathing all together, before she released a soft sob and held onto him tighter.

It took mere minutes, perhaps an hour, Hermes wasn't entirely sure, before Malfoy reluctantly pulled away from him and stumbled out of the broom cupboard. Light immediately flooded into the dark shed and Hermes had to shield his eyes briefly to let his eyes adjust with the sudden change.

When he looked back at Iris, now bathed with light, she had schooled all of her features until there was calm indifference on her face. The only indication that she had been crying was her tearstained cheeks.

"Tell _no one_ about this, Granger," she warned. With a quick flick of her wand, the remnants of her breakdown was gone. Her grey eyes glistened as she stared at him one last time. Malfoy then blinked and her eyes turned steely once more, before she finally turned around and left without a single glance back.

* * *

She knew what she was doing was dangerous and downright stupid, but Merlin help her she couldn't stop herself. Now that she was able to get a taste of it, Iris found herself seeking for it again and again.

During moments when she felt like the world was crashing down on her, she would desperately tear throughout Hogwarts to look for Hermes Granger, drag him into an alcove or an empty classroom, and calm herself down by wrapping her arms around him.

 _Merlin_ , they weren't kidding when they said Hermes' hugs were miraculous. Every time he calmed down from his initial surprise, he would expel a soft sigh and wrap his arms around her too, pulling her close. Instant warmth spread through all the nooks and crannies of her body and she would only pull away until she collected herself and walked away without any word.

" _Even my Hug of Warmth tamed the ferocious Dragon,_ " he joked one time, earning a weak glare from Iris.

There were other moments when he would incessantly urge her to seek help from Dumbledore once more. Those were the days when she hated herself the most, because Hermes Granger had no idea how much he could sway her with his promises and curly hair and bright, honey-colored eyes. She had almost cracked, but would remember her mother, and Iris would again merely shake her head and walk away.

She was still in disbelief that nobody knew about her Dark Mark. Granger was too much of a goody-two-shoe to keep this secret to himself, but surprisingly, he did. Iris knew Potter was extra observant of her, obsessively following her every move, so she didn't understand why Granger did not at least tell Potter about her secret to appease his grieving best friend.

" _Not my secret to tell,_ " he simply answered one time.

Iris hated herself so much. She must have really messed up this time for her to start seeking comfort from a _mudblood_. But then, Granger wasn't a mudblood to her at all. Not anymore. She wasn't entirely sure when this happened, but… but it was jarring, how a person she believed to be beneath her in all ways, a person she knew was of dirty blood, was someone who gave warm hugs and warm looks and Iris… Iris did not know what to do.

She pulled him into an empty Charms classroom on the last week of June. She had finally finished fixing the Vanishing Cabinet. Iris already alerted Voldemort and the other Death Eaters of her accomplishment. The Dark Lord complimented her, told her she was better than her father, and ordered her to prepare.

Granger was unusually quiet tonight. Perhaps, he felt she had bothersome thoughts that day and chose to keep quiet.

She immediately wound her arms around him and placed her head against his chest. Warmth spread through her and she closed her eyes, deeply inhaling and taking in his familiar scent. During their last Potions lessons, when Slughorn introduced the Amortentia to his students, Iris was able to identify the scents she had smelled from the love potion except one. She smelled her favorite apple pie baked by her Nana, of the detergent that they always used at home, of broom polish, and… _toffee_. It had confused her a lot with the last scent because she disliked toffee; it was too sticky, too sweet. But on the day Granger hugged her back on that bathroom, she discovered he smelled of his favorite sweet.

"Will you quit being stubborn now and ask help from Dumbledore?" he attempted for the umpteenth time.

In spite of herself, a small smile appeared on her face. Trust Granger to be unceasingly persistent even when things were dire and impossible. "You know what I'll answer to that stupid question, Granger," she answered, voice slightly muffled by his uniform.

He expelled a humongous sigh and absentmindedly placed his chin on top of her head. "Typical stubborn Malfoy," he whispered, a hint of fondness in the tone of his voice.

Her hold on him tightened, numerous what ifs running through her head. What if he wasn't a mudblood? What if she wasn't a Pureblood and a bloody Death Eater? What if Potter accepted her friendship during first year? What if she finally relented to his plea to ask help from Dumbledore? What if she ran away from home, ran away from Voldemort, ran away from everything else?

What if… what if tonight, she told him how she really felt about him?

A wry smile appeared on her face.

Of course, it was too late for what ifs now.

She held him tight because she knew she might never get this opportunity in the future anymore. She held him tight because she knew, after everything that would happen tomorrow, he might not look at her the same anymore. She held him tight, because in the midst of war, there was a huge chance not both of them would emerge alive.

Iris slowly lifted her head so that her grey eyes would connect with his brown ones. There was sheer worry in them because he knew that something was wrong. _Of course_ he knew something was wrong. Brilliant Hermes Granger, too perceptive and intelligent and so… so _kind_.

Her eyes glistened as she placed a gentle hand against his cheek. She wasn't entirely sure how he could see her right now; all the walls she had built to hide her emotions were already tumbling down.

"Be safe, Granger," she murmured. "Please."

She stood on her tiptoes to give him a meek kiss on his cheek. His cheeks flooded with red as she gave him a sad smile.

She lingered in his arms for a bit longer, stealing minutes she knew she would never have after this day, before completely pulling away.

As usual, she never looked back.

* * *

Harry was weeping over the dead body of Albus Dumbledore. Ginny was beside him, trying to give him as much comfort as she could.

Hermes shook, eyes glistening with tears and shock, still in denial of everything that was unfolding before his eyes. _This_ wasn't supposed to happen. Dumbledore was supposed to live and guide Harry until he finally fulfilled the prophecy and vanquished Voldemort once and for all.

McGonagall looked distraught, raising her wand in the air to honor their beloved Headmaster. The others soon followed as Hermes shakily pulled out his wand and raised it in the air, too.

A tear slipped down from his eyes as he sought the Astronomy Tower and thought he saw a brief flash of blonde and then… and then it was gone.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been highlighting Hermes' Hug of Warmth persistently so of course Iris will inevitably receive it hahaha. 
> 
> Thank you for the kudos/comments/bookmarks!


	7. Seventh Year/Horcrux Hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do listen to 'O Children' by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds while reading this chapter. I had this song on loop while typing this just to draw some inspiration from the song. If it helps, this song was the one being played during Harry and Hermione's dance after Ron left in the Deathly Hallows movie.

* * *

_Forgive us now for what we've done  
_ _It started out as a bit of fun_

\- O Children by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

* * *

Hermes beamed widely as Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour-Weasley took their first dance as a married couple.

Mrs. Weasley was in tears, hand over her heart, as she watched her eldest embark in a journey she herself had been in for years. Ginny was beaming widely, fond tears rolling down her eyes, as Harry silently placed his hand on the small of her back for comfort. Ron was ridiculously trying to stop his tears from falling but to no avail.

It was a happy day. Familiar faces swarmed the small, but homely tent the Weasleys had put up near the Burrow. Drinks overflowed, Mrs. Weasley's mouth-watering homemade food decorated the long table, and a jovial band played music to entertain the guests.

Fleur later found him chatting with the Weasley twins and then pulled him onto the dance floor.

"You look beautiful, Fleur," Hermes complimented with a brilliant grin. It was strangely reminiscent of the Yule Ball back when he was fourteen, knowing he had the most beautiful girl in his arms. Fleur hadn't changed one bit, still as beautiful as ever. Her Veela powers had marginally toned down now that she found her mate but still, staring at her a little too long made his brain go all fuzzy.

"You 'ave grown taller!" she exclaimed. Even with her heels, the top of her head was on the same level as his chin. Back in fourth year, she still reached him up to his cheek.

"What can I say? I'm continuously growing," he cheekily replied, twirling the new bride on the dance floor. Fleur tilted her head and released a melodic laugh. When he pulled her back into his arms, he gave her a fond smile. "I'm really glad you found happiness in Bill, Fleur. He's brilliant!"

Fleur glanced at her husband lovingly. "'e is, isn't 'e?" she said with that thick French accent of hers, blushing prettily when Bill gave her a smile in return.

"I actually thought _you_ liked me back in fourth year," he joked, mock hurt on his face.

She pinched him on his side, prompting him to yelp in pain. "Silly, after all zese years," she giggled, tiptoeing a little to pinch both of his cheeks this time. "Still no girl in your 'eart, 'Ermes?"

A flash of blonde. A pair of grey eyes. A flowery scent.

Fleur's eyes widened before he could even lie. "There is!" she gasped in surprise, placing a hand over his heart, which he was sure was beating wildly inside his ribcage.

He blushed and looked away from her searching gaze.

"What is 'er name?" she asked with great interest in her eyes.

"It doesn't matter, Fleur," he quickly replied, desperate to change the subject. "This day is all about you, after all!" When she still looked at him in amusement, he sighed and murmured under his breath, "Some other time, Fleur. When everything… when everything's back to normal."

Her blue eyes dimmed a little, perhaps thinking of the dark things she had witnessed for the past few days.

Ever since Dumbledore died, the Wizarding World had been in utter chaos. People were starting to fear going outside since Death Eater attacks increased. Even the Muggle World were being targeted, numerous news about mysterious attacks broadcasted on TV stations.

Hermes' heart clenched in pain as he remembered offering a newly obliviated Monica and Wendell Wilkes a ride to the airport for them to catch a plane to Australia. " _Celebrating our anniversary by moving out of this country_ ," Wendell joked, clapping him on the back, and thanking him for his graciousness. Monica gave him a hug, commenting that it was nice for their kind neighbor to bring them to the airport. It took him a lot of great effort to leave the airport after that, heart breaking into two with every step he took.

"You look sad, little Gryffindor," she said, placing a gentle hand against his cheek. She absentmindedly brushed the dark bag under his eye and frowned.

He sighed and gathered her in his arms, breathing in her scent. To his dismay, Fleur smelt of vanilla rather than familiar flowers. "Be happy, Fleur," he then murmured. Hermes placed a kiss on her forehead and passed her back to her husband, pointedly ignoring the sadness in her clear, blue eyes.

Hermes looked around and searched for Harry, soon finding him seated on one of the tables, a troubled look on his face. "You all right, mate?" he asked, taking the seat beside Harry.

"I just realized I do not know the greatest wizard of the Wizarding World after all," he murmured, deep in thought.

Hermes' eyebrows knitted together in confusion, then shot a brief glance at the man Harry was conversing with a while ago. He recognized him as Elphias Doge, who had written quite a moving piece of article for Dumbledore on the latest edition of the Daily Prophet.

"What's that?" Harry suddenly quipped.

He looked back at his best friend and frowned. "What's what?"

"Shhh," Harry said. Hermes' pursed his lips and worriedly look at the bespectacled boy, only to hear a peculiar sound that wasn't there before.

He looked at the ominous black sky, devoid of any stars despite the lack of bright lights in the Burrow. The Aurors stationed outside looked uneasy, too, and Hermes started to feel bothered himself.

Just then, the sound grew louder until a bright, white light shot at the very center of the tent. Harry and Hermes were instantly on their feet, recognizing Kingsley's patronus. The lynx galloped around and showed the most horrific sight.

"The ministry has fallen," the lynx said, projecting Kingsley's voice. "The minister is dead." Horrified gasps rang throughout the guests. "Death Eaters are coming."

The lynx evaporated into silvery mists, leaving deafening silence in its wake. As soon as the last mist disappeared, ruckus erupted. The Aurors swarmed inside and hastily evacuated the civilians.

Hermes' felt his eyes water at the sight of Fleur and Bill, heartbreak in their eyes as they gave each other a loving kiss.

He met Ron's gaze across the room. The redhead tore through the stampeding guests and finally reached his best friends.

"This is it, isn't it?" Ron blurted out. It was more of a statement rather than a question, his blue eyes piercing intently into Harry's.

Harry himself had grown pale and sickly, but there was steely determination in his emerald eyes. He gazed at Hermes and Ron as his lips thinned in grave seriousness. "You don't have to come with me, you know," he whispered. Despite the uproar, Hermes perfectly heard him. "Hunting horcruxes is dangerous and you don't have… you don't have to sacrifice your safety just to come with me."

Hermes swallowed the sudden nervousness he felt and earnestly shook his head, his curly hair bouncing wildly in the air. "You are stupid if you think we will abandon you, Harry," he protested. "After all these years…" He reached out and clasped arms with Harry. "We're brothers through and through."

Harry's emerald eyes glistened in gratitude, then turned his gaze at Ron. The redhead clasped Harry's other arm and broke into a wide grin. "Brothers through and through."

The-Boy-Who-Lived squeezed their arms, relaying the bursting gratitude he felt for their friendship, then sidealong apparated them away from the ruckus to embark on perhaps the Golden Trio's most dangerous adventure to date.

* * *

Iris did not understand why she was here.

As she trudged through the dreary walls of Hogwarts, students scampered away, terrified looks in their eyes as the blonde Death Eater passed by. Iris kept her gaze straight and steady, unwilling to show any emotions that told them it bothered her immensely.

She really thought after running away with Snape and the other Death Eaters last June, she'd be allowed not to attend her seventh year. She thought she'd finally join Voldemort's inner circles, participate in planning revels and attacks, and listen to whatever bullshit the Dark Lord yammered about while she looked the part, false adoration in her eyes.

" _Voldemort's orders,"_ Headmaster Snape curtly replied when she demanded why she had to return for her seventh year. And Iris, despite the sudden desperation blooming in her heart, knew she had no other choice but to accept it. Because, as what Snape had pointed out, it was Voldemort's _orders_. No one questioned whatever was going through that terrifying mind of his.

Predictably, students avoided her like the great plague itself. The animosity behind their eyes were always overpowered by the sheer horror of knowing the likes of her walked amongst them. After all, as far as she knew, she was the only Death Eater student attending Hogwarts; the first of her peers. Iris had an inkling she was ordered to come back here to become the poster child of Voldemort's promised new world. They needed a model, someone to look up to, and who was more fitting than Dumbledore's almost murderer?

Iris' hand shook but she curled it into a fist. Over the summer, she had gotten better in reining in her emotions. Snape took it upon himself to train her with Occlumency until she was bone-deep tired but very much ready. Breakdowns had lessened because it was a necessity. Voldemort abhorred weakness; the Malfoys had just escaped severe punishment all thanks to her aide, but still, the Dark Lord had never forgotten she had defied one of his important orders in the end and let Snape kill Dumbledore. Iris didn't want to give Voldemort a reason to _Avada_ her without much thought.

She briefly glanced at her watch and grimaced. She was running late for her next class, the Dark Arts, but she worried more about attending it than ditching it. Ever since Death Eaters infiltrated Hogwarts, the curriculum had changed. The students were being forced to embrace the Dark Arts fully, so learning defenses about it was a waste of time. She had very much wanted to ditch said class, but after attempting to do it one time, Snape had ordered her to come to the Headmaster's office.

" _You have to keep up appearances, Iris_ ," her stern godfather said. " _I don't care whatever you're going through, but for the sake of your mother, you have to keep appearances_."

Iris took a deep, calming breath and closed her eyes. This was all for her mother, to keep her safe. Lucius had escaped from Azkaban all thanks to Voldemort but all the respect she had for her father was long gone. She did not care whatever happened to him anymore because _this_ was his entire fault. Her mother, on the other hand… her poor, poor mother who had been nothing but brave and strong…

Thinking about her mother, Iris urged herself to walk faster back to her Common Room and grab her things. If it meant she had to endure another godforsaken class, just to keep her mother safe, then so be it.

When she strode into the Slytherin Common Room, she was surprised to see that Theo and Blaise were still inside, seemingly waiting for her. Blaise was already holding onto her designer bag, and immediately stood up upon seeing her come in.

"Where the hell have you been?" he snarled, slight irritation in his eyes.

"I didn't tell you to wait for me, Zabini," she snapped in return, trying to snatch her bag away but he held on tighter.

"Let me carry it for you," he clipped, a tone of finality in his voice.

Iris sighed and stopped herself from running a hand through her hair in frustration.

"You shouldn't go around Hogwarts alone, princess," Theo said with a grave frown, also standing up from the couch. "You know what Snape – "

"I know what Snape said," she snarled, turning on her heel and hastily walking out of the Common Room once more. "But I am not a _child_. Not anymore. I don't need bodyguards."

Theo snorted. "Right, of course, _bodyguards_ ," he snarkily replied.

Iris cheeks reddened but she refused to look over her shoulder to give him a glare.

"Where have you been?" Blaise insisted, gently this time, falling into step beside her.

Her wand hand shook again and she had to cover it with her other hand to hide it from Blaise's worried gaze.

"It doesn't matter, Blaise," she said with a sigh. "Come on, we're running late."

" _Iris_ ," he whispered in exasperation, grabbing onto her elbow stop her from walking. The blonde Slytherin had no choice but to turn around and look at the two wizards. "If you still think that we're fucking doing this because Snape ordered us to, then you're more obtuse than we've originally thought."

She lifted her chin in defiance. "How dare you talk at me like that," she sneered, forcefully pulling her elbow away.

Theo, who had always been carefree and annoying, looked too serious it was almost unsettling. "We're not like bloody Crabbe and Goyle who would follow your every command, Iris," he said with a stern frown. "We're here to _help_ you."

"Help me?" she asked, bordering shrilly. "To what? To punish despicable students with the Unforgivables? To reign terror over the student body? To… to _murder_ whomever our _precious_ Dark Lord ordered me to?"

"Shh," Theo furiously whispered, quickly looking around to see if somebody was there to witness her tirade.

Blaise's face darkened as he reached forward. Iris almost flinched away, but felt him wipe some moisture away underneath her eyes.

Iris took a deep, shuddering breath, hating herself for crying once more. "I am not weak," she grounded out. "I do not need help."

Theo sighed and slid closer, placing a comforting hand at the small of her back. "We never said you are weak, princess," he said in comfort. "Iris Malfoy is never weak. _Never_. But that doesn't mean you don't need any help. We're… we're your bloody _friends_ , no matter how much you abhorred that stupid word. You don't have to endure everything alone. Not during this time, Iris. _Especially_ not this time."

She hated herself how much comfort Theo's words gave to her. She wasn't supposed to rely on other people, after everything that had happened. This was all her fault, all her family's fault, and people should not get too close if they did not want to get hurt in the end.

But Blaise and Theo… such _stubborn_ blokes. Iris always had an inkling they volunteered their services even before Snape thought of ordering them to protect the Death Eater. Crabbe and Goyle were too much of a buffoon; they wouldn't be able to protect themselves, much less her.

"Whatever," she finally murmured, cheeks turning pink when she saw Blaise and Theo exchange amused glances. "We're bloody late, so get a move on, you gits."

Theo did not remove the hand against her back, which she didn't mind at all. Unlike Crabbe and Goyle who usually walked behind her, Theo and Blaise had no qualms of walking beside her. Unwittingly, her lips twitched into a small smile. If her father saw her with them right now, he'd start hinting about Pureblood marriages once again. Ever since these two blokes were recruited in the Inquisitorial Squad with her back in fifth year, Lucius had been insisting for her to choose a worthy husband for the Malfoy family fortune. It was, after all, one of her important duties as a future Pureblood wife.

Although they were both handsome and intelligent, with a fortune that almost rivalled the Malfoy family, their hair… their hair wasn't curly enough. Or their eyes weren't honey-colored. Or… or they didn't smell of toffees.

Iris desperately tried to push those memories away as they finally stumbled inside the Dark Arts classroom. There was no use dwelling on the past.

"Ah, Miss Malfoy, you've finally arrived," Amycus Carrow, the current Dark Arts professor, greeted with a leering smile. His gaze shifted over Theo and Blaise flanking her side but didn't bother addressing them.

She lifted her chin and did not offer him any excuses as she walked through the aisle towards her usual table at the very front. Blaise and Theo sat on each of her side.

"As I was saying before," Carrow said, sauntering towards the front, "today, we will be learning about the Cruciatus Curse."

Iris flinched at the mention of the Unforgivable, memories of being the receiving end of that hateful curse rushing back into her mind. Blaise quietly placed a hand on top of hers underneath their desk, relaying as much comfort as he could.

Carrow's eyes were bright and menacing as he pulled out his wand and waved it in the air. Instantly, five people materialized in front. Horrified gasps ran rampant while Iris' steadily grew paler. Longbottom, the youngest Weasley, Lovegood, Colin Creevey, and Ernie McMillan were at the very front, hands bound in chains, looking worse for the wear.

"These five students," Carrow drawled, "have been found to be breaking the rules in this school. Mr. Filch had taken care of their detention, but, with Headmaster Snape's permission, I think it would be most practical for all of you, including these troublemakers, to learn a lesson."

"You can't… you can't possibly be suggesting we'll practice the Cruciatus on them," a visibly shaken Seamus Finnegan exclaimed, utter disgust and horror in his eyes.

"Why, Mr. Finnegan, that is _exactly_ what I am suggesting," he said. "Let this session serve as a lesson for you to never defy the Dark Lord's orders."

The classroom had gone deathly quiet. Iris' wand hand started shaking once more and this time, Theo grabbed onto her hand to calm her down.

"Now," the slimy Death Eater continued, "who would like to volunteer?"

No one dared to breathe as his eyes scanned the audience. Iris tried not to make any unnecessary movements because she knew… _she knew_.

Her heart plummeted to her stomach when Carrow's eyes landed on her and did not shift away. "Why don't you come up in front and show your skills, Miss Malfoy," he said with an encouraging smirk. "I'm sure this will not be your first time."

Blaise and Theo had been holding her hand in a death grip underneath the desk. Iris took a deep breath, blocked the terror away, before letting a small smirk slip on her face. "Of course, Professor," she coolly replied, slowly rising up from her seat. Her hands were red and raw from her friends' grips, but she'd rather hold onto them than do what she was about to do.

" _You must keep up appearances_ ," Headmaster Snape's words echoing in her ear as she strode forward and chose to stand in front Ginny Weasley. The fire and hate in her eyes were refreshing; at least, despite how bleak Hogwarts had become, there were still those who did not lose their spark.

"Scared, Weasley?" she sweetly asked, raising her wand and thanking the gods above her hand wasn't violently shaking.

The Gryffindor's face twisted into an ugly sneer. "Never," she whispered with vehemence that shook Iris up to her core.

' _Good,'_ Iris thought, relief washing over her form.

"We don't have all day, Miss Malfoy," Carrow cajoled with a sickening sneer on his face. "We have to give chance to others, too."

Her grey eyes turned steely for a moment, before carefully crafted indifference once again masked her face. Iris briefly shot a look at Blaise and Theo, a silent order in her eyes. Blaise and Theo gave a slight tilt of their heads, recognizing her request.

Iris took another deep breath and raised her wand. It would not do her some good if she released a weak curse. Carrow would surely report her to Voldemort if he saw at least slight hesitation in the young Death Eater.

" _Crucio_ ," she exclaimed without wavering.

Ginny's pained screams filled the whole classroom. Carrow was cackling gleefully, unable to notice a shot of red and blue simultaneously hitting Weasley on her right foot. Instantly, she fell unconscious before the Cruciatus Curse could wear off.

"Well, well, what a powerful one," the professor said with disappointment in his eyes. He looked back at the horrified students and said, "Only a powerful Cruciatus can render the victim unconscious within minutes. Even the most powerful wizards struggle to cast a perfect Cruciatus Curse. I doubt you lot can cast one. _I_ surely don't." His black eyes landed on Iris once more, a look of resigned awe and fascination in his eyes. "Except Miss Malfoy here."

Iris straightened her back despite the hateful glares she got from the other students. "Of course," she primly said, marveling at how she was able to slide back on the bench without quaking like a leaf.

The Dark Arts lesson dragged on for a few more hours. Carrow handpicked more students to practice on the incarcerated pupils. Blaise, Iris, and Theo were a perfect mask of innocence and indifference, deftly flicking their wands underneath their desk to shoot a Stunning Curse and a Numbing Curse at the same time to lessen the effects of the Cruciatus.

They had been doing this ever since the start of the school year. So far, they were getting away with it every time. Amycus Carrow was as thick as a log and wouldn't recognize anything strange even if it was happening right under his nose.

Iris knew they would never be this lucky in the future. There were moments when they were almost caught, and although it sickened her to do so, sometimes she had to turn a blind eye when one student would be forced to put a Cruciatus on another in fear of being caught.

Carrow was steadily growing impressed _and_ disgruntled at the powerful spells the students were casting, loudly wondering how in Merlin's name they were able to cast a powerful Cruciatus to render the victim unconscious.

"Iris," Blaise murmured under his breath. "We should stop now. Carrow is growing suspicious."

But she resolutely shook her head. "No," she vehemently whispered under her breath. "Keep casting, Zabini."

Unbeknownst to Iris, Ginny Weasley started to blearily wake up from her stunning spell. Her blue eyes eyed the three Slytherins in confusion, watching them as they secretly shot simultaneous blue and red spells behind Carrow's back.

* * *

"Ron had always been stupid, you know."

A brief, sad smile appeared on Harry's face. "Always," he said with a weak nod. The smile fell away from his face as he stared blankly into space once more, lost in thought.

Hermes tried to bat away any depressing and hateful thoughts from his mind but the horcrux locket hanging around his neck made it very difficult.

Earlier that morning, Ron had snapped and left their tent without another glance back. He and Harry had just a terrible row, Ron vehemently pointing things that had struck a nerve at Harry.

" _Bloody Boy-Who-Lived, never really liking it when the attention isn't on you now, is it, Harry? Well, breaking news, the world does not revolve around you and it never will!_ " Ron's tirade still rang loudly in their ears, Hermes' heart breaking into two as he watched one of his best friends turning his back and walking away from them.

He wanted to blame the necklace entirely. After all, it was Ron's turn to wear it and guard it from anyone who wished to steal it from them. But, after running around blindly, still without any clear location of all the horcruxes, they were starting to grow weary with hunger and exhaustion. Eventually, one of them would snap. Harry did tell them they weren't obligated to stay and had therefore chosen to brood over Ron's betrayal instead of running after him.

Fury for the redhead bloomed in his heart. _'He'd always been jealous of everybody,'_ a sinister voice whispered against his ear. _'Always wanting what's best. HA! Rightful git never deserved the best. He'd always turned his back on you and Harry. Forget the bloody git. He isn't worth it. He is worthless. He is good-for-nothing. He is –_ '

Hermes angrily tore the necklace from his neck and threw it on his bed.

Harry glanced at his direction in surprise. "Hermes, you know our agreement – "

"I know, Harry," he said with an exhausted sigh. The terrible weight the necklace always seemed to give to the wearer had finally been lifted and all Hermes felt was exhaustion and sadness. "But… but just a moment, Harry. The stupid necklace had been driving me barmy."

The-Boy-Who-Lived sadly nodded and gazed faraway once more, his emerald eyes unseeing.

Hermes ran a tired hand across his face and darted a quick glance at the small radio inside their tent. It was blasting a soft sad song that did nothing to alleviate their moods.

"Oh, fuck it," he finally murmured. Harry glanced at him questioningly once more, but Hermes was already grabbing his beaded bag from his makeshift cot. He stared at it for a few seconds, heart swelling at the reminder that this once belonged to his now currently Obliviated mother, before rummaging inside.

When he pulled back his hand, he was now clutching a bottle of Firewhiskey. With a flick of his wand, the bottle hovered in the air until it reached Harry.

"Firewhiskey?" The-Boy-Who-Lived asked, surprised.

"I think we both need a drink," Hermes said with a casual shrug, pulling out another bottle for himself.

Harry's eyes comically bulged out. "Err… mate, in case you've forgotten, we're in the middle of nowhere, camping in this… this _bloody_ tent, and on the run from Death Eaters," he slowly said, looking at Hermes as if he'd gone mental. "We can't afford to get drunk right now."

A small smirk appeared on Hermes' face. "Don't worry, Harry. Technically it's _not_ firewhiskey." He popped the cap open and took a huge gulp. He closed his eyes briefly as he welcomed the burning sensation in his throat. "This mimics the taste of firewhiskey without the terrible disadvantage of getting drunk." When Harry still looked at him dubiously, he urged, "Go on. Try it."

Harry slowly removed the cap with his wand and took a small sniff. "Well, it does smell like firewhiskey," he said, then took a small sip. With widened eyes, he looked back at Hermes. "It _tastes_ like firewhiskey. Are you bloody well sure this doesn't have any alcohol content?"

"Yes, because I made it," Hermes pointed out matter-of-factly. Harry's mouth dropped in astonishment. "I experimented on it before because getting drunk is very inconvenient for my studying. So, every time you blokes force me to drink, I'd switch with this concoction."

"You sneaky bastard," Harry said with a loud, surprised laugh. "So that's why you never got drunk!"

Hermes took another swig. "Guilty," he said, a wide grin on his face.

Harry threw the cap at his direction, which missed him by inches. "Wanker," Harry said with another laugh. "You're no fun, Hermes." He took a few more sips, also closing his eyes as he let the liquid wash through his mouth. "Merlin, this tastes _so_ good. I kinda missed the buzzy feeling, though."

"Don't ever spill my secrets, Potter," he lightly warned. "Or else."

Harry laughed as he tried to recount a funny incident when Ron was totally pissed after winning one Quidditch game and danced the 'Macarena' on a dare. Harry even comically stood up and even mimicked the dance; the dance a stark difference with the very sad song blaring from the radio.

"What the hell was that, Potter?" Hermes cried, also jumping onto his feet to do his own version of 'Macarena' and added other wild movements that had Harry doubling over in uncontrollable laughter.

They drank firewhiskey and danced all night, laughing until they couldn't breathe, laughing until tears fell down from their eyes.

When all the firewhiskey Hermes had brought were gone, messy empty bottles strewn on the floor, Harry plopped down back onto his seat. The smile fell from his face but the tears still poured. "Ron is always a bloody wanker," he said, the hint of pain in his voice heard in the tone of his voice.

Hermes swiped the tears in his eyes with the back of his hand. "Always," he whispered in return.

The radio continued to blast a sad song, their momentary happiness gone, and now all that was left was the heavy burden they had no choice but to bear.

* * *

"Miss Malfoy, what are you doing here?"

The old caretaker narrowed his eyes in suspicion as Iris emerged from his rickety office. Mrs. Norris meowed and stared at her with her wide, yellow eyes.

"I got curious what new methods of punishment you are doing to the rule breakers," she smoothly lied, a small, pretty smile growing on her face. "I must say, they're truly remarkable, Mr. Filch. More… _innovative_." A shiver ran down her spine as she remembered the ghastly torture devices scattered around his office, remnants of blood splattered across some of the devices. His office smelt of burnt hair and flesh and vomit and Iris had to hastily grab onto the object she was going to steal to keep her lunch inside her stomach.

A pleased grin spread across Filch's face, thankfully buying her lie. "Headmaster Snape was gracious enough to let me use other means of punishment," he said with a reverent nod. "Fitting for those brats with grubby little hands and sneaky little tricks up their sleeves, eh?"

"Right," she said, turning slightly pale at the thought of being subjected with the torture devices in his office.

Iris then quickly bid him goodnight and strolled back to her dormitory. Thankfully, it was nearing curfew so only a few students roamed around the hallways. Most students now feared of stepping out of line, the punishment far greater than what Dumbledore and the other professor bestowed on rule breakers before.

As she climbed into her Common Room, she sighed in relief to note that Blaise and Theo were nowhere to be found. Although their company had been of great comfort to her for the past few months, she'd rather not answer any questions she knew they would undeniably ask.

She greeted the other students in the Common Room with a cold nod before finally reaching the dormitories. The other girls were already asleep, their bed curtains drawn close. Iris hastily changed her clothing and climbed onto her bed. As soon as she closed her own bed curtains and muttered a soft _'Muffliato'_ , she finally pulled out the small radio she had stolen from Filch's office.

Such devices were banned in Hogwarts. They were immediately confiscated because the staff discovered these kinds of radio broadcasted news about the resistance. Anyone caught with it would be severely punished. Iris still clearly remembered the multiple _Cruciatus_ Zacharias Smith got from Alecto Carrow after discovering the very same radio Iris now possessed.

Iris tapped her wand tip on the radio thrice before whispering _'Longbottom'_. Soft static blasted out from the radio before unmistakable voices started to report about the current state of the Light Side. Getting the password for Potterwatch was not an easy feat. Iris had to _Imperio_ Colin Creevey to tell her the password for tonight.

A wizard named _'River'_ who eerily sounded like Lee Jordan spoke about the recent horrific events that were not reported in the Daily Prophet. Iris wrapped her blanket around her shoulders, quivering at all the horrors innocent people had to endure under Voldemort's reign.

"… Yes, yes, that's true. Now, picking up the latest stories by our charming, our dearly beloved, Chief Death Eater You-Know-Who: we've heard rumors that he keeps being sighted abroad," a guy named Rapier continued. Iris recognized Fred Weasley's voice. Or was it George's?

"Well, who wouldn't want a nice little holiday after all the hard work he's been putting in," River replied with a sarcastic lilt in his voice.

Rapier snorted. "True, very true, mate," he said. "Now you lot listen here and listen very well. Just because our dearly beloved, most outstanding, magnificent Chief Death Eater is out of the country doesn't mean we're safe."

"Constant vigilance!" River exclaimed. Iris found herself smiling a little, now lying on her back as she continued to listen.

"Bloody hell yes, constant vigilance!" Rapier replied. "Speaking of which, our dear listeners, there has been sightings of numerous Dementors all over the country. Sources say that they are all doing You-Know-Who's bidding. And so, if you're all too lazy to listen during your third year, we just want to remind you a little _Expecto Patronum_ will dispel those buggers away."

"Think very happy thoughts before casting such a nifty charm, yes?" River replied.

"Better than a Dementor's Kiss, I'll say!" Rapier replied with a snort.

"Anyway, that is it for this special broadcast of Potterwatch," River said. "Before we end, let us all take a moment of silence, in memory of those who have fallen."

Iris held her breath as he recounted the list of those who died fighting for the Light Side. When _his_ name didn't come up, she released a deep shaky breath and smiled in relief.

"We do not know when we'll be back on air but be sure to be on the lookout, listeners!" River said. "The next password will be 'Mad-Eye'. And with that, we bid our goodbye. Good luck. Stay safe. Keep faith. And support Harry Potter!"

Their voices disappeared and there was static once more, before a soft, sad song started playing on the radio.

Iris shifted on her bed and lifted her blanket up to her chin. As the music played in the background, lulling her to sleep, a small tear slipped down from her grey eyes and wondered if Hermes Granger was listening to the same music, too.

* * *

She knew it. She bloody well _knew_ it.

Returning to the Malfoy Manor for Christmas was a bad idea.

Iris had debated whether she would stay in Hogwarts for Christmas or return to Malfoy Manor. Although Hogwarts wasn't the same anymore, she'd choose it over the latter, knowing that it would be swarming with Voldemort and his bloody Death Eaters. But Narcissa had begged for her to come over, and her mother never pleaded in her whole life. Besides, Lucius pointed out that Voldemort would expect her to be at the Malfoy Manor when he dropped by. The least she could do was to show her presence and be as invisible as possible.

Things had been tensed the first few days she came back. Her parents' relationship had never been the same anymore and Narcissa made it a mission to keep Iris away from Lucius as much as possible. Not that Iris had minded because she had other things to worry about, such as her terrifying aunt. Bellatrix had been lurking around their manor ever since she went home, proclaiming about bringing them back to the Dark Lord's good graces.

Everything had been mechanical for Iris, waiting in bated breath for Voldemort and his cronies to arrive. But then, one day, as Iris, her parents, and Bellatrix Lestrange prepared in the drawing room for Voldemort's arrival a few days from now, Fenrir Greyback and Scabior pulled three familiar faces into the drawing room of the Malfoy Manor. One was a redhead, far thinner and ganglier than the last time she'd seen him. The other, horribly disfigured, huge boils on his faces and a ridiculous pair of spectacles that were much to big for his deformed face.. And the last one… the last one…

He hadn't changed at all. Maybe lost some weight due to months of starvation and exhaustion, making him look a little gaunt and tired. But his wild, curly hair was the same. His wide, honey-colored eyes hadn't changed… eyes that looked at her with instant recognition, undeniable relief pouring through with the fact that she was still very much alive.

Iris looked away in horror, trying to force herself to breathe through her nose and calm herself down.

She didn't deserve that relief in his eyes. She had done a lot of atrocious things in the past months and she didn't deserve the happiness he had shown when his eyes landed on her.

"Well, what do we have here?" Bellatrix asked, idly twirling a strand of her hair with her wand as she stalked towards the captives.

"Saw them lot running around," Scabior said, throwing Ron to the ground. The redhead glared at him through his fringes. Scabior then prodded him with his dirty boot and sneered. "I instantly recognized the red hair. Definitely a Weasley. And him – "

One of the Snatchers threw Hermes to the ground. Scabior crouched down and grasped a handful of Hermes' curly hair to lift his head up. "Undesirable Number Two," he gestured with a proud smirk. "The _mudblood_."

"So…" Bella's eyes landed on the horribly disfigured wizard and excitedly clapped her hands. "You must be Harry Potter!"

"NO!" Hermes bellowed. The barmy witch's eyes landed back on him. "No, please he's not. We were just hunting for food. Things had been difficult for the past few days."

"Silence!" Bella shrieked, kicking his head aside. Iris bit back a gasp and grew pale, seeing the blood that started to pour out of his mouth.

Her aunt suddenly whipped around and looked at her. "Iris, dearest!" she exclaimed, quickly striding towards the blonde. "You are in their year, yes?" She looked at Lucius excitedly. "She is, Lucius, isn't she?"

The gaunt looking man beside her, with scraggly hair and stubbles on his chin, solemnly nodded his head. "She is," he said, pushing Iris forward. "Go on, Iris. Tell Bella here that that is Harry Potter and his friends."

The Golden Trio's eyes instantly settled on her. Iris stilled as she broke into cold sweat. Weasley was giving her the darkest glare he could muster. Potter's face was too disfigured for her to decipher what he was feeling. But her eyes… her eyes only saw him, and the sudden fear on his face.

Her vision blurred as Iris looked away. "I-I don't know," she stuttered. "I'm not entirely sure. We weren't close. And… and I haven't seen them for months."

"Nonsense, dearest," Bellatrix sweetly said, a dangerous glint in her eyes. She grabbed onto Iris' chin and forced her to look back at her classmates. "You've been with them for six years! I'm sure there's still some familiarity."

"I don't know, I swear," Iris pleaded as a small tear slipped down from her face. "I swear."

She steadfastly looked away from the Golden Trio, too afraid of what she'd see in Granger's eyes. Bellatrix grew thunderous at the moisture in her eyes and Iris hastily wiped them away.

"Listen very, _very_ carefully, Iris," Bella said, her voice now dangerously low and threatening. Iris hesitantly met her murderous, black eyes and swallowed down her trepidation. "Think of what the Dark Lord will say if we personally delivered Harry Potter and his precious friends to him. HA! The Malfoy family will finally be back to his good graces."

But she furiously shook her head and refused to acknowledge them.

Bellatrix shrieked in anger and gave Iris a resounding slap on her cheek. The blonde backpedaled with the force and cradled her smarting cheek. "You useless bitch!" she thundered, pointing an accusatory finger at her general direction. "All of you. Useless!"

From the ground, Hermes Granger was desperately thrashing on the floor, a murderous look in his eyes, but Scabior kicked him on his head once more to effectively silence him.

Narcissa was suddenly beside her as she wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Never, _ever_ hit my daughter, Bellatrix," she said with a voice that could turn water to ice. Iris glanced at her mother; she had never seen Narcissa incensed like this before. The last time she had lost her cool was probably on the day her father was sentenced to Azkaban.

Bellatrix snootily raised her nose in the air. "Narcissa dear, really, I am very disappointed with your family," she drawled contemptuously, then turned her head away to look at their visitors. "Bring them to the dungeons for now. I'll Owl Snape for some Veritaserum so that we can finally know once and for all, yes?"

The Snatchers hauled the Golden Trio back onto their feet. And Iris tried really, _really_ hard not to glance at him but failed miserably. The fact that he was still very much alive relieved her immensely but for him, and Potter, and Weasley to get caught under Bellatrix' watchful eyes… Iris closed her eyes and looked away.

' _I told you to be safe,'_ she mentally cried. _'I told you, Granger.'_

When she opened her eyes once more, he was intensely looking at her. A small tear slipped as his honey-colored eyes grew bright with warmth, the corner of his lips tugging into a small smile. She desperately wanted to break away and wrap her arms around him. She'd terribly missed his warm hugs that made her feel safe and comforted. But she stopped herself, because she could not act rash, not with Bellatrix breathing down their necks.

"WAIT!"

Iris flinched and watched with wide eyes as Bellatrix practically flew towards the Snatchers and grabbed onto Hermes.

"What is that?" she shrieked, pointing a finger at the sword slung on his side. Iris was too distracted with his eyes to notice it a while ago.

Hermes paled and stammered a lie, but Bellatrix already yanked him away from Scabior.

"Bring the other two to the dungeons," she ordered. Then, she sneered at Hermes and threw him on the ground. Hermes tried to scrambled onto his feet and escape, but Bellatrix already straddled him on the cold, drawing room floor, pinning him down.

Potter and Weasley were screaming bloody murder, their voices still echoing even as they were locked up down at the dungeons.

Iris had forgotten to breathe. Bellatrix neared her face at the terrified curly-haired brunet, baring her crooked, yellowed teeth.

"Where did you get that?" she demanded once more.

"I-I don't – "

Her resounding slap on Hermes' cheek clenched Iris' heart.

"Try again," the crazy witch snarled. She grabbed onto the sword and threw it away from his hand. "That sword is Godric Gryffindor's and it's been locked up in my family's vault for years. YEARS! How did you come upon this?"

"It's not the real one, I swear," Hermes begged. "It's a fake. We have replicated it to – "

A piercing scream erupted from his mouth. Iris choked out a sob as Bellatrix carved wounds on his arm. She recognized that knife, cursed to leave a scar that no amount of magic or potions could wipe away.

"DID YOU GO INTO MY VAULT?" Bellatrix screamed. "DID YOU TAKE THIS SWORD FROM MY VAULT?"

"I didn't take anything, I promise, I promise," he pleaded, screaming once more when Bellatrix continued carving something on his arm.

"Please… stop…" Iris choked out, unknowingly shooting forward to try to push Bellatrix away. But Narcissa's hand was suddenly around her arm, keeping her in place. She shot a quick glance at her mother, but Narcissa's face was blank.

Iris closed her eyes and looked away until his screams finally died down and Bellatrix was cackling at the top of her lungs. "Look at this handy work I made!" she gleefully exclaimed, lifting Hermes' arm in the air. The raw and bleeding 'Mudblood' was carved on his forearm, forever branding his blood status on his arm.

"Bring me the goblin!" Bellatrix then ordered at Lucius.

The older wizard's gaze hardened. "I do not take orders from you, Bellatrix," he spat, his face twisting into an ugly sneer.

The crazed witch's eyes lit up with dark amusement. "Oh, Lucy dear, maybe you're forgetting something," she claimed. "If it weren't for me, you'd be dead right now." Lucius paled, but the sneer on his face didn't falter. "So, bring the goblin to me. NOW!"

Lucius turned away without being told once more, returning minutes later with Griphook.

While Bellatrix interrogated the goblin regarding the authenticity of the Sword, Iris' eyes were affixed on Granger. He lay motionless on the ground, too exhausted from his torture and the dark magic imparted by the cursed blade. The only indication that he still was alive were his shallow, ragged breathing.

She needed to get to him, to make sure that he was all right, and she tried to retrieve her hand away Narcissa's grip but she just held on tighter.

"Mother, let go," she softly pleaded, tears still steadily streaming down from her eyes.

"Don't do anything rash, Iris," Narcissa replied with a steely tone. Her mother shot a quick glance at where Lucius stood beside Griphook. Lucius was shooting a strange, confused look at their direction but Bellatrix was thankfully oblivious with Iris' tears.

"I-I have to… please."

A sudden loud bang resounded in the whole room. The extravagant chandelier hanging overhead came hurtling down and Iris immediately pushed her mother away. It crashed just on the spot where she and Narcissa were a while ago, its glasses now a shattered mess on the cold floor.

Spells were exchanged as Potter and Weasley dulled with Bellatrix and Lucius. Iris crouched down and crawled away from the ruckus, blindly searching for Granger.

She saw him propped against the far wall, trying to stand up and help his best friends but all his attempts were futile. His wand was out and he was trying to shoot spells where the general direction of the fight was, but Bellatrix' torture had exhausted him so. Beads of sweat were already forming on his forehead and he looked pale… _so pale_.

He froze when his eyes found hers. She was a few meters away and Iris found herself unable to move.

Then, his eyes filled with warmth once more, a small smile growing on his face.

"I'm so glad you're alive," he whispered for only her to hear.

Her heart clenched because his words were genuine. After everything she'd done, how could he say that?

But Iris crawled closer, her eyes never leaving his warm browns. His hand was already outstretched, waiting for her to reach him.

" _STUPEFY_!"

Iris immediately ducked away so as not to get hit by the Stunning Curse. When she looked back at where Hermes was, Potter and Weasley were already hauling him up and dragging him away. Their previous House-Elf, Dobby was casting brief spells wildly to buy time for the Golden Trio to escape.

"Don't let them get away!" Bellatrix shrieked, throwing her cursed blade towards their direction.

Dobby hastily grabbed onto the Golden Trio and then, they all disappeared.

Bellatrix released an enraged shout and threw dark spells blindly.

Iris hid herself underneath the chandelier, thanking the heavens above that they got away.

* * *

Harry Potter was dead and Voldemort was encouraging them to join the dark side.

Everything was a blur to Hermes, still in shock at the sight of his very best friend he'd tried to protect for years, lying motionless on the ground.

Grief washed over him like a great tidal wave, not even bothering to wipe away the tears that steadily flowed down his eyes. _'Harry,'_ he thought, his mind too jumbled to form a coherent sentence. _'Harry.'_

Hermes closed his eyes and took a deep shuddering breath. If he was going to die today, then so be it. As a Muggleborn under Voldemort's reign, he knew he would have it the worse, especially as the famous Mudblood, One-Third of the Golden Trio.

Ron was crying openly, blue eyes hard with anger and grief, and Hermes tried to reach him, to tell him that he was still there for him, but he felt too tired and drained to move.

Harry Potter was dead and he did not know what to do.

Neville was making a statement that sparked an uproar in their side. But how could they still have hope when Harry Potter was dead? The only person who could defeat the Dark Lord was dead once and for all and all hope… all hope was lost.

Hermes' eyes landed on the Death Eaters all lined up behind Voldemort, mock sneers and jeers on their faces, cackling as they taunted their side of how Voldemort had slaughtered Harry Potter like a pig. But he ignored all of them, desperately searching for the grey eyes that had haunted his dreams for the last few months.

And then, he saw her, surprised to see that she was also looking back at him. The look in her eyes was indecipherable but that didn't matter.

If he was going to die today, the last thing he wanted to see were her grey eyes.

Suddenly, there was a loud ruckus. Voldemort's speech about the new world was interrupted as a spell hit his last horcrux, Nagini.

"What the _fuck_?" Ron exclaimed breathlessly, his blue eyes almost bulging out from their sockets.

Hermes followed his line of vision and gasped in shock; Harry Potter was very much alive and throwing curses here and there, dodging hexes thrown by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. He disappeared behind a huge explosion and Hermes couldn't find him anymore.

He blinked several times and looked over at Ron. "Did Harry just – ?"

"Bloody hell yes!" Ron exclaimed with a wonderful laugh, his tears still streaming down his face but more due to relief and happiness.

Hermes laughed with him in relief, and then pushed him away as a yellow spell almost hit him on the chest.

They continued to hex their way through the battle, running and running and running, never stopping even as Neville drew the Sword of Gryffindor from the Sorting Hat and beheaded Voldemort's last horcrux with a mighty swing. The last piece of his dark soul spewed from the snake and released a shrill scream. Voldemort witnessed the destruction and grew thunderous, almost hitting Neville with the Killing Curse if Harry hadn't cut in.

The battle around ceased all together as they watched Voldemort and Harry Potter face against each other, the prophecy unfolding in front their very eyes.

Their spells met at the middle with a loud bang, golden flames erupting at the center where their spells met. And in just a blink of an eye, Harry Potter was able to overpower Voldemort. His Killing Curse rebounded and hit him on his chest. Voldemort toppled over and fell onto his back, lifeless eyes staring heavenward.

This time, Voldemort did not get up anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I plan on writing this until their eighth year so yes, we are drawing to an end. However, I've written 30k+ words for their eighth year, which I know I cannot cram in one chapter, so I'll be splitting it into three to four more chapters. 
> 
> Also, just curious. Are you aware of other genderswap Dramione fics? Maybe a novel-length fic? I've only mostly seen one-shots and I'm super dissatisfied ugh hahahaha. If you do know a genderswap fic, drop a comment! I would also like to thank you guys for the kudos/comments/bookmarks. I'm glad you're giving this fic a chance, even though genderswap Dramione is new and maybe weird. I just got so attached with Hermes and Iris so, you know, I appreciate your words of encouragement that at least I'm writing something decent hahahaha.


	8. Eighth Year: Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Hermes & Iris' eighth year! As what I've said prior, I managed to write 30k words for their eighth year so I've finally decided to split it into four chapters. More to come!

"So?"

Harry and Ron broke into identical grins. "We got in!" they exclaimed in unison.

Hermes laughed. "I bloody told you so," he shot back, ushering them closer until they slid down on the booth across from him in the Leaky Cauldron. "Especially you, Boy-Who-Lived."

Harry's cheeks turned into pink. "Shut up, Hermes," he said, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. "The theoretical part was really hard and if it weren't for your color-coded notes, I might have failed it. I mean, _Merlin_ , that thing practically saved my life."

"And mine," Ron said reverently, grabbing hold of Hermes' hands with sincere earnestness. "Thank you, Hermes Granger."

The curly-haired brunet rolled his eyes and smacked Ron's hand away. "Wankers," he said, prompting them to laugh loudly in return. "If you have that kind of passion back in Hogwarts, you might actually be passing your classes."

Ron groaned. "We haven't seen each other for a week, Hermes! Stop reminding us how really swotty you are, mate, blimey," he whined.

"You know," Harry piped in, "it's not too late to apply for aurorship, Hermes. They've extended the application period. After the bloody war, they've lost a lot of aurors and they're trying to recruit as many graduates as possible."

"We've talked about this," Hermes said with a pointed glance. "I _want_ to return to Hogwarts to finish my degree and get my NEWTs. I'm glad that the ministry waived such degrees in our batch and let you lot apply to your desired ministry positions because they've lost a lot of manpower. Aurorship seems like a nice prospect, too, but I need… I need to do this for myself."

"They have an opening in the Department of Magical Creatures," Ron offered, a hopeful glint in his eyes. "Maybe you can finally pursue that spew of yours – "

"It's S.P.E.W.," Hermes corrected indignantly. The corner of Ron's lips twitched with humor, but hope still gleamed in his blue eyes.

"Come on, Hermes," Ron pleaded. "Think of all the fun we'll have in the ministry. The Golden Trio – saving people, hunting things – it's… it's what we've always done."

Hermes' heart clenched a tiny bit, knowing that he would not be able to see his best friends frequently once the school year started. He was sorely tempted to join them; after all, being with them was one of the things that kept him alive despite the atrocities of war. They had been through a lot, seen a lot, and supported each other until things got back to normal once again. Hogwarts wouldn't be the same without them.

But, he knew he'd like to go back to Hogwarts for his eighth year. The moment Headmistress McGonagall sent them letters as an invitation to finish their studies, Hermes did not hesitate in replying yes. Harry and Ron had persistently tried to change his mind, tempting him with all their auror training and adventures, _but_ … Hermes knew he needed a break from all these shenanigans. The prospect of returning to Hogwarts and continuing his education was very appealing, after all.

Perhaps, this time, he could finally, _finally_ study in peace.

"Once he gets that look, there's no changing his mind, mate," Harry said, clapping Ron on his shoulder. Hermes gave them an apologetic smile. "As long as you write us a letter every single day, then we're all good, wanker."

Hermes snorted. " _Merlin_ , I didn't realize how clingy you've all become," he said, dodging the piece of peanut Harry threw his way. "But yes, of course, I'll owl you as frequently as I can. After all, I have to make sure none of you will do anything stupid and kill yourself in the end."

"Oh, haven't you heard?" Harry asked with widened eyes. "I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, - _Twice_ , mind you. Sooo… I don't really die easily, Hermes."

He laughed and shook his head. Merlin, he was going to miss them so much.

Then, to Ron, he asked, "How's your mother holding up?"

A sad smile appeared on Ron. "Mum's good," he said. "Fussing over George had kept her busy, you know. George hadn't been… after… he hadn't been the same." Ron suddenly looked very tired as he took a long swig from his butterbeer. "And you?" He focused his blue eyes at him. "Your parents?"

Hermes ran a hand through his hair. "I've contacted Healers expert in Memory Charms," he said. "There aren't many of them so the earliest they can look into my parents' case will be after a month. They reckoned the Obliviation Charm I placed of them was bloody powerful so it might… it might take a while."

He swallowed down the panic rising from his stomach, wondering if they would be able to undo his parents' spell. Obliviating them was still the wisest decision, but Hermes hadn't really thought about what would happen after the war had ended. He was highly convinced back then that the situation was dire, and he would not emerge alive in the end.

"You're still welcome to stay over at Grimmauld Place," Harry offered with a kind smile.

"Or the Burrow," Ron said with a solemn nod. "Merlin knows how that place needed more cheering up."

"Thanks for the offer, mates," Hermes said with a sad smile in return. "But, I'd like to organize the house before my parents can come back."

Suddenly, from across from him, Harry ducked his head behind his arms. Hermes looked at him, startled, as Harry slowly lifted his head with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I think I saw a camera," he said with an embarrassed chuckle, his cheeks turning red. "Instincts, you know."

Hermes looked at Ron questioningly. "The paparazzi's been having a bloody field day now that Harry Potter, Hero of the Wizarding World, is out and about," Ron explained. "Bloody menaces, I tell you. They've been rabid during our first weeks of training and Kingsley had to pass a memorandum barring any journalists from bothering Harry without the proper permission from the minister himself and our beloved hero."

"Well, as expected, I suppose," Hermes said with a casual shrug. "Of course the media would sensationalize this."

"They've been trying to pester me about my _future_ ," Harry grumbled, angrily grabbing onto his mug of butterbeer to down it with a large gulp. "I don't bloody know. I've never had the luxury to think about that before when I've been constantly in danger."

Hermes gave him a sympathetic smile. "At least Kings had done something about it," he reassured. "And, _well_ , you can also do some nifty spells here and there."

"They aren't bothering you, though?" Harry asked. "Ron here has some encounters with the paps in the past, too."

Ron's ears turned pink, and Hermes hazarded that he wasn't quite used to being the center of attention. "Well, there were some bothersome individuals but… I've taken care of it," Hermes said with a small smirk on his face, remembering all the wards he placed on his Muggle home and setting up booby traps for uninvited people. He remembered the unfortunate, snooping journalist drenched with bubotuber pus last week.

They've exchanged more anecdotes about their life nowadays, with Harry and Ron usually recounting a particular obstacle during training or their field adventures. Hermes contented himself in listening to them yammer about their day, knowing he wouldn't be able to hear their annoying blabbers once he went back to Hogwarts.

The Golden Trio finally went their separate ways when the Leaky Cauldron was about to close. Harry and Ron promised they would see Hermes off during September 1st, knowing that Hermes would most likely be alone since his obliviated parents were still in Australia.

Hermes came inside his Muggle home with a sad heart. It was filled with memories of his childhood and it gave him an ache knowing that his mother and father weren't there to welcome him back.

Shaking his head, he resolutely promised himself he shouldn't lose hope. If Harry Potter, a bloody _teenager_ , was able to defeat the most powerful dark lord in the Wizarding World, then anything was possible. The Healers were still hopeful they would be able to retrieve his parents' memories, after all. He shouldn't dwell on the worst case scenario.

Hermes was about to go to his room when he saw a letter sitting on the coffee table. He immediately grabbed onto it and recognized McGonagall's handwriting and the Hogwarts seal. The letter was heavier than normal and curious, Hermes broke off the wax and peered inside. There was a letter and a shiny object inside. Eyes widening, he grabbed onto the latter and was surprised to see a shiny maroon badge with a letter 'H'.

He quickly scanned the letter with Headmistress McGonagall appointing him as the Head Boy for this school year. The candidates for Head Boyship from the incoming seventh years all refused this position and thought it would be fitting if Hermes would be the one appointed instead. McGonagall listed down all his qualifications, insisting that he was perfect for the position, and by the time he finished the letter, he was flattered.

Hermes hastily went upstairs to pen a reply, saying that he was honored to be made Head Boy.

As he tied the letter to his owl, Hermes wondered who the Head Girl might be.

* * *

"Eat your meals on time, Hermes."

"And please, for the love of all good and holy things, just _stop_ spending so much time in the library!"

"Maybe get yourself a girlfriend, I mean, _blimey_."

"Don't raise your hand in the air too eagerly. You have to give chance to others."

" _Or_ , maybe you can pull out that stick out of your arse to – OW, HERMES!"

The curly-haired Gryffindor threw an exasperated glare at his best mates. "Why are you being like this today?" he whined as he pushed his trunk past platform 9 ¾, Harry and Ron not too far behind.

"Without us, you'd spiral out of control," Harry said with a grim frown on his face. "You'll forget to eat and maybe start camping out in the library if McGonagall finally gave you the permission to do so. Admit it, Hermes. That isn't too farfetched."

Ron, whose neck was still smarting from Hermes' earlier slap, concurred with a solemn nod. "I'm sure you're going back to being boring and swotty and… and…" A soft groan escaped from his lips as he melodramatically covered his face with both of his hands. "I can already imagine you growing a thick, long beard after finishing all the books in the library just so you can get all 'O's in your NEWTS!"

Harry waved his wand, prompting Hermes' trunk to become wide open. "Hey!" Hermes cried, but Harry was already dumping a lot of toffees inside. "This will keep you well-nourished during times when you skip your meals," Harry said with a stern look in his eyes. "Then, don't forget to brush your teeth afterwards."

"You're both acting insufferable, bloody hell!" Hermes exclaimed with a loud laugh, swinging both of his arms over their shoulders. "Even my parents weren't this… this _smothering_ every time I go back to Hogwarts. I'm going to be _fine_. I'm already a grown adult. I can take care of myself. You don't have to worry too much about me and just focus on being brilliant aurors."

Ron sighed. "We're going to miss you, Hermes," he said with a sad frown. "It won't be the same without you."

Hermes snorted. "Funny, I think I overheard you tell Harry yesterday you can't wait to get rid of my nagging voice," he pointed out.

"You heard that?" the redhead asked with a sheepish smile. When Hermes rolled his eyes, he added, "Well, you _do_ nag a lot, you annoying git."

"If anyone has to worry in this group, it should be _me_ ," Hermes said with a snort. "If it weren't for me, you both would have been dead by now."

"That's true," said Harry while at the same time Ron uttered "You got that right, mate."

"So don't go chasing after bad guys and being a bloody hero about it," Hermes said with a stern glare.

"In case you've forgotten, we're _aurors_ ," Harry said with a wide grin. "That's basically our job description. The difference now is that we're actually getting paid for it."

Ron laughed while Hermes shook his head. "I'm sure you'd have fun with the mountain of paperworks and reports too," the brunet remarked with a smirk, watching as identical horrified looks flitted on their faces.

"Are you really, _really_ sure you don't want to join us to the ministry, Hermes?" Ron quickly pleaded, a desperate glint in his eyes. "We'll have loads of fun and get paid a handsome amount. And…"

His words died down as a whistle blew from the Hogwarts Express, signaling its impending departure. "Too late now, Ronald," Hermes said with a grin.

Harry sighed. "So, it's really a good bye now," he said, suddenly looking uncomfortable and sad. "I mean… it's _so_ weird, knowing we won't be together for the following weeks." He glanced at Hermes once more and frowned. "But if this is really what you want, well we can't do anything about it anymore."

"Stubborn Hermes Granger," Ron said with a forlorn nod. "Brightest wizard of his age."

His eyes may have misted slightly because he would honestly, truly miss these stupid blokes. "We're brothers through and through," Hermes assured. "I don't think some distance will ruin the friendship we've forged for these past few years."

Harry grinned boyishly. "Brothers through and through," he said while spreading his arms. "Now bring it in, Granger."

Hermes snorted but tightly wrapped his arms around him nonetheless. "Don't do anything stupid, Potter," he gravely said.

Ron tightly wrapped his hands around his friends too. "Granger's Hug of Warmth will surely be missed," the redhead said with a sigh.

"Don't do anything stupid either, Ronald," Hermes said with a laugh, gently pulling his arms away to look at his best friends for the last time.

"Goodbye, wankers," he said with a warm smile. "Remember, before doing anything, ask yourself 'What would Hermes do?"

"Bloody Merlin," Ron groaned as Harry boisterously laughed.

They watched as Hermes got onto the train and waved until their arms hurt and they couldn't see him anymore.

Hermes forlornly looked outside the window as the scenery slowly changed into greenery. Hogwarts wouldn't be the same without Harry and Ron; he would terribly, _terribly_ miss them. But, this was a refreshing change. Hermes vowed to make the most out of his last year in Hogwarts.

He then proceeded to pull his trunk until he reached the Heads' compartment. When he opened the door, he was surprised to see that it wasn't unoccupied anymore. Prefects from fifth year and above from different Houses were already crammed inside, waiting for the arrival of their Heads.

Hermes surveyed the crowd, noting some familiar faces. Ginny waved her hand in greeting, newly appointed as the seventh year Gryffindor Prefect partnered with Johnny Hopkins.

"I knew McGonagall would make you Head Boy," the youngest Weasley said as Hermes slid inside the compartment and sat beside her. "But, I'm surprised you didn't skip eighth year like Harry and Ron did."

He looked at the crowd once more and frowned. "The Head Girl isn't here yet," he pointed out. "Do you know who it is?"

Ginny shook her head. "I have no idea," she said with knitted eyebrows. "I think Luna was offered Head Girlship by McGonagall but she turned it down."

"Really?" he asked in surprise. "Luna?"

She smiled. "She's very eccentric but hey she's a Ravenclaw," she offered. "But like I said, she turned it down."

"Why aren't _you_ Head Girl?" Hermes asked. "You have decent grades unlike your stupid brother."

"Well, McGonagall did offer the position to me too," she revealed. "But, I had to choose between being Head Girl or Gryffindor Quidditch Captain. _Obviously_ , I chose the latter."

He quirked a small smile. "Obviously," he echoed, knowing how the fiery redhead always claimed she'd be a member of the Holyhead Harpies after graduating.

"So, anyway, I haven't heard anyone being offered the position," she pointed. "So, maybe she'd be an eighth year like you, too."

The compartment door opened once more and all amicable conversation ended, shocked to see the new person to join their small group.

Iris Malfoy, still looking like the proper Pureblood princess she was, stood outside the compartment, a shiny, green 'H' pinned on her robes.

Hermes' eyes had grown wide upon seeing her, surprised that she was actually _here_.

She seemed to have ignored the other people, too, her eyes solely staring at him.

The Slytherin considerably paled and uttered a soft "Fuck" under her breath.

Well, fuck, indeed.

* * *

"Are you sure McGonagall's not playing tricks on you, princess?" Theo asked, prodding the Head Girl badge pinned on her robe with the tip of his wand.

"Quit it, Theo," Iris said with a frown, batting his hand away. "And she isn't. I sent her an Owl immediately when she gave me this badge, clarifying her decision to make _me_ the Head Girl."

Blaise snorted. "Well, you have one of the highest marks in our year," he offered. "It isn't that surprising, Iris, really."

"Yes, okay, but are we all forgetting that I'm a bloody Death Eater?" she thundered, yanking her left sleeve up to show the faded mark on her forearm. She swallowed down her ire when Blaise looked away in discomfort and Theo turned pale.

Iris immediately covered her left arm, still refusing to look at the mark of evil on her forearm, and sighed. "She did tell me I wasn't first choice, so there's that," she grumbled, slightly slumping back down on the compartment bench beside Theo. Iris closed her eyes and leant her head against the headboard. "I don't even know why I have to go back."

With Lucius convicted with lifetime imprisonment as a Death Eater and Narcissa in house-arrest indefinitely for conspiring with the Dark Side, Iris didn't understand why her mother insisted that she go back to Hogwarts when the news that McGonagall was willing to receive students from their year arose. Iris honestly thought she'd be like her father, thrown to Azkaban and left to rot for all the things she had done, but surprisingly, the Wizengamot had decided that she was innocent from all grave charges. It was found out that her Dark Mark was given to her by force and that she was, in the end, just a _child_ and a victim of circumstances. It was just unfortunate she was on the losing side of the war.

The Wizengamot still had convicted her with some minor offenses, but they were easily paid off by the Malfoy riches. They also had a condition that she would be placed in house arrest for a year _unless_ she was to attend to Hogwarts to finish her studies.

Iris immediately chose the former because she knew the idea of attending Hogwarts once more after everything she did was preposterous. But Narcissa protested, told her it wasn't too late for her yet whatever that meant. _"You still have to prove to everybody that you are the best among all of us,"_ her mother gently told her after she protested magnificently.

" _I don't have anything to prove, Mother,_ " Iris had replied, exhausted after everything that had happened. It was the first time she actually felt free, from her father's expectations, from Voldemort's clutches and at least, for once in her life, she wanted to do something that she _wanted_.

" _You will not be happy here, my love,_ " Narcissa soothed, brushing the frustrated tears that rolled down Iris' eyes.

Hence, she reluctantly penned a letter to McGonagall that she wanted to return to Hogwarts for her eighth year. A part of her wouldn't be shocked if she was denied entrance, but the Headmistress surprised her with a letter that welcomed her back. A week after, McGonagall sent her another letter appointing her as Head Girl and her badge.

"Cheer up, princess," Theo teased. "At least we're going back with you."

Iris cracked her eyes open and frowned. "I sure as hell know you both didn't have to come back to Hogwarts," she said matter-of-factly. They were heirs to a great family and they could spend the rest of their lives hiding in their manors and spending every galleons in their vaults. They weren't Death Eaters like her, after all. They had nothing to prove in this new bloody world.

"Hmm, what? I wanted to take my NEWTS," Theo innocently said with a smile on his face. Then, jutting his thumb towards Blaise, he said, "I don't know about that bastard, though…"

"I miss the Hogwarts library," Blaise drawled with a bored expression on his face. It didn't go unnoticed how his cheeks reddened with his lame excuse.

Iris rolled her eyes. " _Right_ ," she said. Deep inside, a part of her was grateful she wouldn't be alone this year. She had this inkling they came back because of _her_ , but Iris didn't want to get too ahead of herself.

"Shouldn't you be meeting with your Prefects now?" Blaise asked after composing himself.

A look of horror befell on Iris' face. "Damn it, you're right," she said. She groaned and hid her face behind her hands. She wasn't ready to face other people yet.

"Who do you reckon the Head Boy will be?" Theo asked aloud.

"Granger?" Blaise offered.

Her heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name.

"Nah," Theo said with a shake of his head, oblivious to Iris' sudden stillness. "I heard the Golden Trio got recruited by the auror department immediately. Those three blokes are practically joined to the hip! I doubt Potter and Weasley wanted to come back so I'm sure Granger followed them to the ministry."

It would be bloody _disastrous_ if Granger was made Head Boy. How could she face him after everything she had done in the past year? How could she face him when they had been in different sides during the War? How could she face him when she had finally gotten the karma she deserved and he was a celebrated hero of this world?

But Iris immediately shook that thought away, knowing that Theo had a point.

"I got to go for the meeting," she said as she stood up from her seat. Instantly, both Blaise and Theo were also on their feet. She looked over them in bemusement. "I don't need bloody escorts, you gits. Just stay here."

Blaise made a move to protest but she immediately walked out of their compartment. Thankfully, none of them followed her out.

Iris kept her head bowed as she meandered through the corridor. She might have heard some gasps and hisses sent her way, but she kept on walking and walking, until she finally reached the Heads' compartment.

' _Please don't make it Granger,'_ she begged. _'Please don't make it Granger.'_

She took a deep breath and opened the compartment door. Instantly, all conversations inside ceased, their eyes firmly glued on her. But then, the moment her eyes landed on _Hermes_ _Fucking Granger_ , she instantly knew he was Head Boy to her Head Girl.

"Fuck," was all she could say.

* * *

Headmistress McGonagall personally accompanied them to their new dormitory.

Hermes quickly followed behind the quiet professor, aware that Malfoy was just a few steps behind him. She hadn't said a word, even during their train ride, and Hermes had no idea how to approach her or at least talk to her.

He had been very distracted during the meeting with the new Prefects back at Hogwarts Express. Iris had been tensed all throughout the ride and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. Some of the Prefects even snidely commented why she was there, why she even had the _audacity_ to show herself back at Hogwarts, but one scathing glare from Hermes silenced any protests. Instead, he focused their conversation more with their tasks this school-year and his desire for them to all work together to let this year run smoothly, especially after the events that had happened last school-year.

When the meeting had finished and the prefects left, Malfoy immediately scrambled out, leaving Hermes alone in the Heads' compartment.

Ever since the War had ended, he still hadn't found the time to actually talk to Malfoy. The last time he saw her was during her Wizengamot trial to support Harry's testimonial. He was meaning to speak with her after her acquittal, but the media immediately took that opportunity to bombard The-Boy-Who-Lived with questions. Hermes missed his chance by then. Up until now, with her just a few paces away from him, Hermes was still at a loss what he would say to her. 'I'm glad you are alive?' or 'How are you coping?' seemed too sensitive, too eager… too _personal_.

Malfoy hadn't been the same since the War, which he didn't find surprising after all. After everything she had gone through, only someone inhuman wouldn't be affected by all the atrocities she had undergone.

If there was someone as famous as the Golden Trio right now, it would be Malfoy. She had been the subject of numerous newspaper articles, of speculations about her true loyalty and sins at the height of the war. Many still loudly protested when she was acquitted, too aggrieved by the deaths that had befallen in their family.

But… but she was just a victim, too. Hermes couldn't understand how they could fault a bloody _child_ for all the things she had done all in the name of survival. War brought out the worst in everybody, especially those who did not have the continuous love and support from people that mattered that most. They could not fault her that she grew up in an environment that had made her as such. True, she had done unforgivable things that he knew couldn't be justified with simple words but one thing Hermes understood ever since he became best friends with Harry Potter was that not everything was black and white. Not everything was either good or bad. There were good intentions reached through evil means; bad, hurtful outcomes which inevitably occurred despite all the morally just means along the way. _No_ , one thing Hermes Granger understood was that there were various shades of grey during the bloody war, morals ambiguous and lines blurred, because at the end of the day, survival was at the forefront of their minds. It just so happened that Hermes would do everything for his friends, his _cause_ , because that was just how he was - how he was brought up and nurtured by those around him. Iris Malfoy, on the other hand...

She was capable of _change,_ though. He had seen it – during second year, when she helped them with the basilisk; during fifth year, when she hid the fact that Hermes' had blatantly lied to Umbridge; during sixth year, when she had constantly broken down due to a responsibility he now understood the gravity; during their horcrux hunt, when she fervently denied their identity from Bellatrix. The list was endless, and he heard this surprising detail from Ginny that Malfoy, Zabini, and Nott constantly tried to lessen the effects of Cruciatus by secretly stunning and numbing the victims at the same time.

Maybe, she had realized her mistakes later during the war, but she still did, and they could not condemn her forever for making disastrous mistakes as a _bloody child_.

"Mr. Granger?"

Hermes blinked and realized that Headmistress McGonagall wasn't in front of him anymore. He turned around, eyes widening when he saw that the headmistress was already a few feet away from him. Malfoy was beside her and looked at him with a mixture of amusement and curiosity in her grey eyes.

"Err… sorry, professor. I just had a lot of things in my mind," he excused, furiously blushing as he quickly walked towards them.

They were now standing in front of a beautiful portrait of a unicorn. Her beady eyes curiously gazed at the trio, before quickly shifting towards Malfoy. The Slytherin's hand was placed against the painting, a small smile on her face when the painted unicorn tried to nuzzle her pale hand.

Hermes looked away, quite sure the blush on his face wasn't because of embarrassment anymore.

"The password to your common room is 'Purity'," the older witch said.

Malfoy stilled and threw a glare towards her direction. The headmistress did not seem to notice and strode inside when the unicorn had let them in.

Professor McGonagall explained the basic rules and etiquettes, reminded them of their responsibilities, and wished them good luck for this school-year.

"Mr. Granger, may I have a word?" she asked once her reminders had finally ended.

Hermes briefly shot a look at Malfoy, who was now idly looking around their common room.

"Of course, Headmistress," he said.

McGonagall strode out of the common room, Hermes closely following behind. Once the portrait closed behind them with a click, she turned to him, seriousness in her eyes.

"I know why you paired us, Headmistress," Hermes said before he could stop himself. When McGonagall quirked an eyebrow, he felt his cheeks warming. "Forgive me, but I don't think making her Head Girl to my Head Boy isn't purely because of her academic achievements."

Her eyes softened. "I apologize for this, Mr. Granger," she explained with a sigh. "But with the conclusion of a very tiring war, Hogwarts is in ruins. I would like _all_ of my students to feel safe within its walls. Miss Malfoy…" She paused, suddenly looking very tired and weary. "Things had been difficult enough for her. She might have done unforgivable things in the past, but it isn't too late for her yet. I hope you understand what I am trying to say, Mr. Granger."

"Of course, Headmistress," he said without skipping a beat.

"I am asking for your help, Mr. Granger, to look after her," she said with a stern glance. "She grew up in a very difficult household and realizing that her beliefs had been _wrong_ … perhaps, what Miss Malfoy needed the most right now is a friend."

A wry smile appeared on Hermes' face. He wasn't entirely sure if he was the right person for that.

Headmistress McGonagall bid him good bye and good luck and left. Hermes stumbled back into his new Common Room and was surprised to see that Malfoy still hadn't gone to her bedroom.

She stood awkwardly at the very middle of the room and once again, Hermes had no idea how to approach her. Their relationship had been complicated to begin with, especially at the start of their sixth year. He wasn't sure how Iris regarded him right now.

"I didn't know you'll be coming back to Hogwarts," Hermes blurted out.

Malfoy coolly met his eyes, an indecipherable look in her grey orbs. "I didn't know you'll be coming back, either," she replied in return.

Silence followed and Hermes struggled to think of saying something again. Hermes never ran out of words but Malfoy… _Malfoy_ always made things difficult for him.

Her eyes slowly landed on his left sleeve, the one covering his pale 'Mudblood' scar. For a moment, something vulnerable peeked from her eyes… vulnerability he had seen countless of times during sixth year. His heart lurched at the sight, but Malfoy immediately looked away and marched towards her bedroom.

Once she was gone, Hermes wearily plopped down down on one of the overstuffed couches in their Common Room.

He chuckled humorlessly, thinking that he wouldn't be able to study well during his eighth year after all.

* * *

It was glaringly obvious that almost half of the student body didn't return for this school-year. Parents didn't want for their children to return that year, which was completely understandable. After all, the brunt of the Second Wizarding War happened in Hogwarts. The formidable and safe castle had fallen once, endangering numerous lives. They couldn't let their children return to Hogwarts when things hadn't stabilized in the Wizarding World yet.

Hermes felt a little uneasy as his eyes roamed all throughout the Great Hall. Only eleven students returned for eighth year: Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnegan, the Patil twins, Hannah Abbott, Ernie McMillan, Terry Boot, Iris Malfoy, Theodore Nott, and Blaise Zabini. Hermes was still trying to adjust with the fact that Harry and Ron weren't there to accompany him anywhere he went.

With regards to population, the Slytherin House had the least number of students. More than half of the student body hadn't returned. Most of their families dabbled in the Dark Arts and were in cahoots with the Dark Lord; it wasn't a surprise if students didn't want to return to Hogwarts when the Dark Side had lost.

Which was why, seeing Iris Malfoy in the Great Hall was the single, most surprising thing in this whole school-year. She was sitting at the very end of the Slytherin long table near the doors, as if she was ready to bound away in case something arose. A wide berth was between her and the other students, with only Zabini and Nott reverently staying by her side.

It bothered him how the once proud and feisty blonde Slytherin was gone, replaced by a woman whose head was bowed down, keeping eye contact at a minimum. The two blokes beside her were comically engaged in an uproarious conversation, but Iris kept her replies clipped and short, seemingly distant.

A week had already gone by ever since the start of the school year but Hermes still hadn't properly interacted with Iris. He felt like she was actually _avoiding_ him, which he couldn't understand at all! Somehow, he missed the Malfoy before who went out of her way just to torment him.

Nott was now loudly recounting an anecdote with wild gesticulations, before draping his arm around Iris' shoulders. The blonde rolled her eyes at his ridiculous antics, but there was a small, amused smile on her face.

Before Hermes could realize what he was doing, he was already on his feet and hastily walking towards the Slytherin table. Irrational anger surged from his heart and he couldn't make sense of it even until he was behind Iris.

"Malfoy," he stiffly called.

She stiffened, before slowly looking behind her. Nott shot him a suspicious glance, and the arm around her tightened protectively.

Hermes scowled.

"What do you want, Granger?" Zabini asked with a frown on his face. His wand was instantly on his hand, ready to cast a spell if the need arose.

"There's no need for that," Hermes said with a frown, jutting his chin at Zabini's wand. Then, to Malfoy, he continued, "We have patrol tonight."

She knitted her eyebrows in confusion. "I thought Heads do not go on patrols," she quipped.

"They don't," he replied. "But, seeing that we still haven't made a decent patrol schedule for our Prefects…" He gave her a meaningful glance, hinting that she had been dodging him every time he tried to approach her to discuss Head matters.

Pink rose on her fair cheeks and she shifted her gaze away. "Right," she said with a small frown.

"We can discuss the schedule after the patrol," he added. "If you like."

Malfoy expelled a deep sigh then looked back at him. "Seems like I don't have a choice," she drawled, an annoyed look appearing on her face.

"You're right," he concurred. "You don't."

"Fine," she replied, turning around so that her back now faced him again.

Hermes scowled once more at her haste dismissal.

"Do you still need anything?" Nott asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"Just don't be late, Malfoy," he murmured, finally turning around and walking out of the Great Hall.

* * *

"You're late."

"For _five_ minutes, Granger, blimey," Iris said as she finally strolled inside their Common Room.

Granger sat on one of the gaudy, oversized couches, his arms crossed against his chest in disapproval. There was a frown on his face, but he finally sighed in resignation and stood up from the couch. He tucked a book under his armpit and passed her without another word.

She looked at his back in curiosity, wondering what had gotten him in such a bad mood. Iris quickly followed him out of their Common Room, careful to keep a safe distance between them.

A week had already passed and she was thankful they hadn't interacted. Until _now_ , that is. Iris knew that Granger was trying his best to reach out to her, to at least talk to her about their duties as Heads, but being the coward that she was, she always found an excuse to get away before he could even utter a single word.

It was rude and cowardly, but Iris knew it was for the best. Granger was hailed a hero in the Wizarding World; it wouldn't help his wonderful reputation if people saw he was interacting with a pariah. She didn't care how people treated her because she bloody well deserved them anyway, but she'd be damned if they started speculating and creating ridiculous rumors about _Granger_ all because of her. She had caused enough turmoil to people that was close to her in the past and she vowed never to let people in, no matter how she missed their warm hugs or their warm eyes.

Iris released a soft sigh and tucked a strand behind her ear. She wished she could just ditch him and crawl into her bed, lie awake at night to keep the demons away, and wait until sunlight streamed into her window.

Activities had been mechanical for Iris ever since she came back for her eighth year. Wake up, shower, dress up, eat, go to classes, eat, do homework, lie on bed, repeat. She tried to minimize interaction except with Blaise and Theo, which was an easy feat seeing that _nobody_ wanted to associate with an ex-Death Eater. She tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, hoping that the days would fly by until she could take her NEWTs and leave Hogwarts.

Her mind came back into the present when she almost bumped against Hermes' back. The Gryffindor skidded into a halt and Iris tried to see what had stopped him in his tracks, but Granger was already releasing a deep sigh and turning around.

"This is getting ridiculous, Malfoy," he murmured, an annoyed frown on his face. She looked at him questioningly and waited for him to elaborate. "We should… we should be working _together_. I mean, we weren't exactly friends before and you don't really like me at all, but if we need this… this partnership to work, we must start talking to each other."

Iris' eyes widened, realizing that Granger thought the reason why she had been avoiding him because she didn't like him. Unwittingly, her eyes glanced at his covered forearm once again, remembering Bellatrix' torture quite vividly, and suddenly grew sick in the stomach.

 _This_ was the reason why she could not properly talk to him. Every time she saw him, she remembered that day, and guilt would swallow her whole. He had been hurt in her home and she didn't do anything to save him. Thank Merlin her mother had destroyed that room, scrubbed Malfoy Manor clean until remnants of dark magic disappeared. The only reason why Iris tolerated living in that manor because it looked livable again, all thanks to Narcissa.

She blinked at his hand, now outstretched in front of her.

"If we want this year to go on smoothly, maybe a cease fire would be for the best," he awkwardly offered.

Iris' eyes shifted back into his honey-colored eyes, bright with hope and something more. A foreign feeling in her heart sparked, but Iris desperately trampled on it before it grew.

"Come on, Malfoy, I'm starting to get a little embarrassed here," he joked, shaking his hand slightly.

Her heart hammered inside her chest and it took a lot of effort to restrain herself from throwing her arms around him instead. Finally, she lifted her own hand and grasped his own. He grinned brightly and shook her hand with enthusiasm, and Iris couldn't stop the small smile from appearing on her face.

* * *

_Dear Hermes,_

_Why the bloody hell did we just find out that Iris Malfoy is sharing a Common Room with you? This is Ron by the way. Harry's insisting that we write on one parchment an –_

_This is Harry now. Why the BLOODY HELL did we just find out that Iris Malfoy is Head Girl after TWO WEEKS YOU BLOODY WANKER! Yes, I'm putting three exclamation points because you've been a right arse for hiding this vital information from us. I can't believe we found this out from Ginny instead! If we weren't swamped with –_

_Ron again. Harry's been trying to wrestle the quill from me but he already had the chance to write more lines, bloody wanker. So yeah. Iris Malfoy. Head Girl. WHY HERMES?! You should ask McGonagall to choose another Head Girl or, if it can't be helped, ask her to at least transfer you to another dormitory instead of sharing a room with MALFOY. I'm telling you, she's going to_ Avada _you while you're asleep._

_Harry – Tell McGonagall that you don't want to share a dormitory with Malfoy. She's always been fond of you as a kindred swot. I'm sure she'll understand._

_This is Ron. Now tell McGonagall or do we have to tell her ourselves? Anyway, we have to end this letter now. We're in the middle of a field assignment but we have to send this letter first because WHY HERMES?! Oh, and by the way, Harry and Ginny are dating again. Ridiculous. You should see the amount of letters Harry's been receiving from my sister. Merlin, my eyes are still –_

_Harry. Ron didn't need to tell that, that wanker. Just don't study too much and eat on time. We've sent a bagful of toffees because knowing you, you'd have finished your supply now._

_Love,  
_ _Harry and Ron_

**-0-0-0-**

_Harry and Ron,_

_I'm bloody fine. I can take care of myself. McGonagall has understandable reasons why she made Malfoy Head Girl, and I'm not going to plead for her to change her mind. Malfoy hasn't_ Avada'd _me yet, contrary to popular belief. Besides, I know enough spells that could even make Voldemort quack in his tomb._

_Don't do anything stupid._

_Love,  
_ _Hermes_

**-0-0-0-**

_Wanker,_

_Too early for that stupid joke, Hermes. Harry refuses to reply to that stupid letter of yours. This is just Ron. He insisted that I address this letter to you as a 'wanker', because that's how you've behaved for the past few weeks._

_If anyone can survive living with Malfoy for a year, we bloody well knew it would be you._

_We haven't done anything stupid, by the way._

_Love,  
_ _Ron and not Harry_

**-0-0-0-**

_Harry and Ron,_

_Terribly sorry for that joke. Tell Harry that I bloody miss his chicken scratches._

_I'm glad you're both still alive. Hogwarts hasn't been the same without you blokes._

_Love,  
_ _Hermes_

**_-0-0-0-_ **

_Hermes,_

_Merlin Almighty, please don't try to inhale all the books in the Hogwarts library._

_We miss you._

_Love,  
_ _Harry and Ron_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to those who spotted the Supernatural reference! 
> 
> Thank you for the kudos/comments/bookmarks :)


	9. Eighth Year: Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, surprise! I updated earlier because I just found out I've officially finished my medical studies!!! YA GIRL'S FINALLY A DOCTOR HAHAHAHA HI 
> 
> Okay, so go listen to this song - "Doors" by Ben & Ben - while reading this chapter. It's a local band but they're super amazing!!! When this song came out, I was in the middle of writing this chapter and kinda drew inspiration from the song. So far, this chapter is the longest in the whole series and by far my most favorite. 
> 
> You're in for a treat, I guess. Onwards!

* * *

_Time won't heal anything  
_ _if you don't surrender your lies._

_-_ Doors by Ben & Ben

* * *

Hermes knew a headache would soon form once they started this disastrous meeting. The Prefects had been clamoring for ideas when he raised about the issue of interhouse unity that McGonagall wanted for Hogwarts. With the end of the war, she wished that students from different houses would interact more; that students would leave their prejudices and pasts behind all in the name of unity.

"How about a Yule Ball?" Ginny quipped amidst the excited suggestions. A murmur of agreement spread across the students. "Just for some Christmas cheer. I mean… after everything that had happened last Christmas…"

Her words were left dangling, deathly silence now heard in the classroom. Hermes' eyes flickered from one Prefect to another, and to the Head Girl beside him, wondering what had transpired last Christmas that made these students look so… _weary_.

"A Yule Ball seems a lot of work," Hermes slowly said, just to break the terrible silence. "And, well, we don't have much time."

"Please, Hermes, I think it's a brilliant idea," Stewart Ackerly, a 5th year Ravenclaw, appealed. He looked uncomfortable as all eyes landed on him. "Christmas will be particularly hard for the students. The Carrows…" His words died down, looking positively sick.

"Shut it, Ackerly," Zacharias Smith, the 7th year Hufflepuff Prefect, hissed. "He wouldn't even understand because he wasn't _here_."

It didn't slip Hermes' notice how the Hufflepuff spat the last sentence like he'd committed a grave sin for missing his seventh year in Hogwarts.

Malfoy, who had been dutifully writing notes on a parchment, stilled. Hermes lightly scowled at the snarky Hufflepuff; he'd been part of Dumbledore's Army, all right, but he was one of the people Hermes actually didn't like.

"He wasn't here, _Smith_ , because he was on the run," Ginny snapped, glaring darkly at the Hufflepuff. "With Harry Potter, searching for horcruxes, to destroy You-Know-Who. Or have you forgotten? Maybe you'd like to be reacquainted with my Bat-Bogey Hex just to remember?"

"Ginny," Hermes sternly replied, eyeing the wand suddenly on her right hand. Smith paled and looked away, a scowl on his face. The Head Boy rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed, choosing to ignore the sudden tension in the room. "If we do this Yule Ball, we need all the help we can get."

"If we do this Yule Ball," Malfoy suddenly quipped, much to his surprise, "I think it is best if we include the lower years, too."

"Nobody asked for your opinion, _Death Eater_ ," Zacharias snarled with a nasty look on his face.

Hermes' eyes widened as the quill on Malfoy's hand snapped into two. Her eyes briefly flared with unadulterated rage and the Head Boy anticipated for her to lash out, because really it was something Iris Malfoy would surely do. But to his utmost surprise, all the anger in her eyes seeped away until her emotions were hidden behind an icy cold emptiness.

For some strange reason, the expression on her face prompted a roaring fire in Hermes' heart. Iris Malfoy always fought back. _Always_. It unnerved him greatly how the snarky Slytherin princess he grew up with chose to keep quiet in the end.

"I do not tolerate name-calling during my meetings, Smith" the Head Boy coolly replied, piercing a terrible glare towards the _terrible_ boy. "If you cannot act civil during said meetings, I think it is best if you just leave."

Instead of backing down, the Hufflepuff lifted his chin, a challenging look in his eyes. "Well," he drawled, "I'm not wrong, am I?"

"Honestly, Smith, can you please just shut up?" Ginny suddenly shrieked, wand on her hand again. " _Boog_ – "

" _Ginevra_ ," Hermes called out, halting Ginny's incantation. The fiery red head shot him a glare due to his choice of name and his disruption. "I do not tolerate throwing hexes in my meetings either."

"But, Her – "

The Head Boy expelled a deep sigh, his annoyance draining away from his body until all he felt was exhaustion and wariness. " _Please_ , can we all just get back on track?" he said, bordering pleading. Zacharias Smith balled his hands into fists but blessedly clammed his mouth and looked away. Hermes threw Ginny another pointed glare until Ron's sister finally lowered her wand.

"Thank you," Hermes said with another sigh, this time of relief, and refused to glance at the silent Head Girl beside him. "So, okay, Yule Ball. Malfoy, what were you saying about inviting the younger students?"

Iris' lips thinned, suddenly annoyed at being addressed once more. Hermes fully looked at her and waited for her reply. It was obvious she very much wanted to keep silent throughout the whole meeting, but Hermes was having none of it. She was _Head Girl_ , and her opinion mattered as much as his and the other prefects.

"Again," she said, her voice clipped and tensed, "I think it is best to invite the younger students if we plan to organize a Yule Ball."

"I don't think McGonagall will approve," Hermes replied, ignoring how her eyes slightly narrowed. "We must still adhere to their curfew after all. The Headmistress will think they're too young to attend such festivities. Loathe as I am to admit, there are students who may dare to… _tamper_ with food and drinks, which the younger students may fall victim to."

Hermes could already feel another headache as he imagined numerous Howlers from furious parents demanding why their eleven-year-olds were passed out drunk the night before.

" _Then_ , we just have to be stricter in monitoring the food and beverages," she simply pointed out.

A small frown started to form on his face. "Mal – "

"They had it worse last Christmas, Granger."

Hermes swallowed down his protest, surprised with the brief raw emotion that broke through her icy façade. For a moment, grey eyes met brown before Iris stared down at her parchment once more. Hermes noticed her that right hand was shaking, but the Slytherin immediately hid it underneath the table.

"She's… _right_." The Head Boy shifted his gaze at Ginny, who now had a hooded look in her blue eyes that almost resembled the emotion Malfoy showed a while ago. "We can at least let them enjoy Christmas at Hogwarts for a change."

At his periphery, he could see that Iris was surprised with Ginny's concurrence. She was once again dutifully writing on her parchment with her repaired quill. Hermes quickly glanced over her notes but wasn't able to read everything. He could deduce, however, that Iris was already listing down all the ideas that she had for the Yule Ball.

"Fine," Hermes said with a disgruntled sigh. "If it's what everyone wants, we'll do it. All in favor?"

All hands shot up in the air. "Well, that's it then," he said. "We'll convene again next week to discuss the committees and delegate tasks. In the meantime, try to come up with as many suggestions as possible." He glanced at Iris once again and added, "Malfoy? Will you add something?"

Iris' looked at him with surprised eyes but simply shook her head. Hermes sighed once more; _Merlin_ , he missed it when she chattered incessantly, even when the words coming out from her were usually mean things.

"In that case, meeting adjourned," he said.

The Prefects collectively stood up to leave. Ginny stopped him with a frown. "You should have at least allowed me to have a go with Smith, Hermes," she said while disappointedly shaking her head. "I saw how much you wanted to hex that smarmy git, too. _Honestly_ , seven years had passed and I still don't know why he's placed in Hufflepuff!"

"I _might_ allow you if you're willing to lose some points for Gryffindor," Hermes said with a serious nod of his head. When Ginny's blue eyes lit up in excitement, he laughed and held her arm. "Blimey, I was just kidding!"

"Shame," the redhead said with a sigh. "Anyway, Harry's been furious you haven't written once last week."

Hermes rolled his eyes. "I was _busy_ ," he scowled. "Tell that to your boyfriend."

"They just miss you terribly, Hermes. Nobody's around to stop them from doing something stupid."

"Even when I'm with them, I'm sure they'd still do something stupid," he pointed out.

"Very true," Ginny said with a fond grin. "Still, write a letter to those blokes. They really do miss you."

"All right, all right," he said.

Ginny beamed and gave him a big hug. "Granger's Hug of Warmth never disappoints," Ginny said with a satisfied sigh. "Bye, Hermes. Harry told me to tell you not to stay up too late to finish homework. I believe 'Get a life, wanker' were his exact words."

Hermes chuckled and bid her goodnight. He then proceeded to pack his things inside his backpack, only to see that Iris was still in the room. She was awkwardly twisting the strap of her designer satchel with one of her perfectly manicured fingers.

"Granger," she started once they were completely the only ones left in the room. "For the Yule Ball, I think we should ditch the Christmas tree all together."

He looked at her in surprise, clearly not expecting that. "I thought you have nothing else to say about the Yule Ball," he claimed.

The Slytherin merely gave him a pointed glare with an unspoken _'Are you kidding me?'_ hanging in the air.

Hermes sighed, knowing she wouldn't be in a particularly chatty mood after that disastrous attempt a while ago.

"Why not?" he finally asked. "Christmas trees are practically part of Christmas. Without it, decorations feel incomplete."

She shifted her gaze away. "People will thank us, I'm sure," she murmured under her breath.

Hermes sighed and sat on the nearest desk. "What _happened_?" he urged, curiosity now reigning over. "Last Christmas, I mean."

Her grey eyes landed back at him, that same haunted look now back on her face. "You don't want to know," she said. " _Trust_ me."

"No, I really want to know," Hermes insisted. "Smith was right; I wasn't here last year so I don't fully understand why you lot were dreading Christmas."

The Slytherin suddenly looked very, very tired. She copied his position and slid daintily on top of the desk opposite him. "Fine," she said, tucking a blonde strand behind her ear. She took a deep breath and tried to collect herself first. "As you know, the curriculum in Hogwarts drastically changed when the Death Eaters took over. Besides that, the form of punishment bestowed on rule breakers had been… _harsher_."

He frowned when he noticed that her right hand started to shake once more. Iris absentmindedly grasped her shaking hand with her other hand, and continued, "The Carrows were especially eager in placing these punishments to the students. So, last year, during the Christmas feast, they presented a huge Christmas tree at the very center and… and…" She started to look sick. "Dangling from that tree were rule breakers. Longbottom was one of them actually."

Hermes paled in sheer horror.

"The Carrows then would award the best students by granting them the chance to hex these troublemakers," she continued, her voice starting to get tremulous. "A Christmas gift, they said. Any hex will do, they said. It was… it was _horrible_. The younger students were crying. And it would have gone on for hours if Headmaster Snape hadn't stepped in and quickly ordered everybody to go back to their dormitories."

Her hands kept on trembling as she released a hollowed laugh. "So, yeah," she continued. "No Christmas tree."

Hermes felt sick in the stomach. No wonder they were persistent for a Yule Ball. If only they could change such a horrible memory into a good one - a _better_ one.

Iris brushed a strand away from her face and slid down from the desk. "I'm going to go first," was her goodbye.

"Malfoy…" he said, noting that she was visibly trembling now. "Are you okay?"

She laughed. "Okay?" she said. "After everything – " She pursed her lips and closed her eyes, inhaling deeply for a moment. When she opened her eyes once more, her trembling had stopped and her mask of indifference was back on her face. "I'm okay."

He wanted to reach out and pull her into his arms. He was sure that Malfoy was about to break down once more, but was surprised that she managed to rein in her emotions before she completely lost control.

She strode out of the classroom and Hermes lost his chance.

* * *

It took him five minutes to realize that the Head Girl wasn't walking beside him anymore.

The meeting with the Prefects about delegation of tasks had just ended and Hermes was eager to go back to their dormitory to start his Ancient Runes essays. Malfoy had accompanied him back, throwing in more suggestions for the Yule Ball, before they fell into an amicable silence.

Hermes actually felt relieved that the Slytherin was starting to relax in his presence. She didn't bound away and hide anymore every time he arrived back at the Common Room. She was actually pitching in some brilliant suggestions back at their meeting. Although the students hadn't warmed up with Malfoy completely, at least they weren't hurling insults and throwing hexes her way. Now, Hermes actually understood why Nott and Zabini were constantly beside her, practically joined to her hip, everywhere she went. He heard from Ginny one time that some students had resorted to hexing the ex-Death Eater.

"Malfoy," he called out, completely turning around and walking to where she was standing.

The Slytherin was gazing outside one of the vast windows in the corridor. Curious, he followed her line of vision and saw the Slytherin Quidditch team practicing for an upcoming match.

He stared down at her and saw the look of longing on her face.

"Why don't you join the team?" he then asked.

Iris looked up at him as if grew another head.

"What?" he asked, not entirely sure why she was in disbelief with his question.

"In case you have forgotten, Granger, I used to be a Death Eater," she calmly said, gesturing to herself. "I don't think they would let someone with a notorious reputation like mine to join their bloody team."

She pushed herself away from the ledge and started to trek back to their Common Room. Hermes frowned at her swinging blonde hair.

"You've been pardoned for that, Malfoy," he shot back. Iris stilled, but her back was still facing him. "Anyone who insisted that you've been guilty as hell during the war is _unfair_. You were just a victim like the rest of us, a child thrust into the heat of the battle because she had no choice or else her family will be killed. Perhaps, the only unfortunate thing was that you were in the losing side."

Hermes clamped his lips as his eyes widened. He had finally digested the words he had uttered and was surprised with himself. He never thought he'd voiced out his opinions about Iris Malfoy's situation to anyone, most especially to _her_.

She then slowly turned around and looked at him, an unreadable expression on her face. "I've done a lot of bad things last year, Granger," she said, her tone steely and strained. " _Awful_ things that I myself think are unforgivable." She briefly closed her eyes as her face scrunched up with pain. " _Hell_ , never mind what I've done last year; I've been a little _shite_ ever since I was born."

"Mal – "

Iris cut him off with a deep sigh. "I used to punish rogue students with the Cruciatus," she deadpanned. Hermes' paled, a brief memory of being subjected under the dark curse crossing his mind. "I hexed and cursed and punished and hurt and poisoned and maimed and injured. Tell me honestly, Granger. I mean, really _honestly_ : if you were a victim of my constant torturing for months then you found out I was allowed to roam around freely in the same castle as _you_ , what would you do?"

He was rendered mute by her earnest question. He would have easily said he would forgive her because Merlin Almighty this was _Iris Malfoy_ , but… but, when he tried to put himself in the shoes of those she might have tortured incessantly, with the darkest and vilest curse that ever existed in the Wizarding World, well… he wasn't so sure anymore.

"Exactly," she said with a wry smile, noting the conflicting emotions on his face. "So no, Granger, I will not attempt to join the Slytherin Quidditch Team because, simply put, I don't deserve it."

She turned around once more and started stomping away, her high-heeled shoes resounding loudly in the suddenly deathly silent corridor.

"Even if – " Hermes pursed his lips and took a deep breath, trying to calm his suddenly racing heart. "Even if, unbeknownst to these victims you've tortured, you consequently placed them under the Stunning and Numbing Spell, just to lessen their agony?"

Malfoy suddenly tensed, but she did not dare look back at him again.

"Ginny told me of what you've done in Hogwarts last year, Malfoy," he continued softly, daring to stride closer to her but not too close. "Ginny told me how you, Zabini, and Nott always tried to help behind the Carrows' backs. She told me she was bloody thankful those two bastards were as thick as a brick. You and your friends were miraculously uncaught after everything you've done."

He noted that her right hand was starting to shake again.

"That doesn't erase all of the atrocities I've done, Granger," she whispered.

"No, it _doesn't_ ," he loudly concurred. "But that just proved that you're not… you're not a lost cause, Malfoy. You are capable of changing for the better if people allowed you to. You're not – "

His words died down when she whipped around as fast as lightning. She was trembling like a leaf now and her grey eyes were glistening.

"Stop!" she shrilly exclaimed. "Stop it, Granger. Just stop… stop being so _kind_." She looked away as a tear slid down from her eyes. "After everything…" She shook her head furiously. "I don't deserve it."

She suddenly looked very exhausted and weary. Hermes tried to reach out to her but she flinched, quickly turned around, and ran as far away from him as possible.

* * *

Hermes woke up when pins and needles blazed from his fingertips to his arms.

Blinking blearily, he realized he had fallen asleep in the Common Room. He shook his right arm until it started to have some feeling again.

A wide yawn tore away from his mouth and after a quick glance at his watch, he noted it was already one in the morning. The last thing he remembered was discussing a few more details for the upcoming Yule Ball with Malfoy. It had been a really tiring day, so he wasn't surprised he fell asleep even before he could drag himself to his room.

He luxuriously stretched, moaning slightly when his back cricked, only to freeze when he heard a whimper beside him.

Hermes quickly looked at his side, only to see Iris Malfoy curled tightly against the end of the overstuffed couch. She was violently shaking, thrashing a bit in her sleep, as tears steadily streamed down from her eyes. She choked out a sob, followed by murmurs he wasn't able to understand.

"Malfoy," he called, realizing that she was having a nightmare. "Malfoy, wake up."

Still, she continued thrashing about, crying earnestly as she continued to tightly curl herself into a ball.

Hermes wondered what she was seeing in her dreams that made her distressed so much. He reached and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Malfoy," he called once more. "Wake up."

He shook her awake and she woke up with a pained cry. Her grey eyes were wide with terror as her right hand instinctively grabbed for her wand.

"Malfoy, it's all right," he mollified. "It's all right. You're safe. It's just me."

Her eyes shifted to him, her wand still pressed menacingly at his direction. She looked confused for a while and looked around the common room. Then, a blush rose on her wet cheeks and she immediately looked away from him. She haphazardly wiped her tears away, and Hermes was reminded of eleven-year-old Iris Malfoy sitting on the steps of Hogwarts, pathetically attempting to hide the fact that she was crying.

She was still trembling when she finally hesitantly looked back at him. "Sorry about that," she murmured. "You weren't supposed to see that."

"Terrible nightmare?" he asked with a frown on his face.

Iris held onto her violently trembling right hand and merely gave him a small nod.

"Everybody's been having nightmares after the War," he replied in understanding. He recalled all the nights he'd jerk awake, remnants of his nightmares still vivid in his mind. He usually dreamt of a dead Harry Potter with Voldemort killing him afterwards or the look of utter betrayal on his parents' faces when they discovered he'd Obliviated them. The worst were always Bellatrix' menacing face and her unending torture.

Although months had already passed since the Second War, the nightmares never stopped. He found out he felt marginally better when he told them to his best friends, Harry reassuring him the loudest that he wasn't going to die easy. It took a few more months for Harry and Ron to share the subjects of their nightmares too, realizing that the horror of said dreams would ease once shared with people they cared about the most. Hermes always made it a point to owl Harry and Ron every time he had a nightmare just to ease his troubled heart.

"Do you… do you want to talk about it?" he tentatively offered. "It helps."

She only frowned and looked away.

Hermes sighed. _'Well, I did try,'_ he told himself, smiling slightly to himself because of course, _of course_ , Iris Malfoy would still choose to be stubborn.

" _Stop being so kind… I don't deserve it."_

Her words still echoed to him, clear as a day, even though that conversation happened a week ago. Malfoy still blessedly treated him the same, but he noticed how she immediately stopped talking to him when they started to breach sensitive topics. He really, truly wanted to reach out to her, but he knew she wasn't ready yet. Thus, he left her alone.

"All right," he said, gathering up his things with a wave of his wand. It would be futile if he tried to coax her to open up a bit, just to ease her heart. "Suit yourself. I'm going to bed now."

He grabbed onto the strap of his bag and made a move to stand, but Iris was suddenly gripping the sleeve of his muggle sweater.

Hermes silently looked at her in question but the blonde was still looking away from him. Slowly then, she inched closer to him until their shoulders were practically touching. His heart leapt into his throat, noting that her cheeks was blazing red. But Malfoy didn't stop; she tentative wrapped her arms around his waist and finally laid her head against his chest.

His senses were instantly filled with her dizzying smell. His heart almost lurched out from his chest, but he was still rooted at the spot.

"W-what are you doing?" he asked. He found out he couldn't properly breathe, his whole body tingling with the familiar feel of her pressed against him. It was stupid and illogical, how he had craved for the feel of her warmth and her skin against him during his horcrux hunt with his best friends. In the dead of the night, when things had been hopeless and tiring and he just wanted to… wanted to _give up_ and all the things he believed in, he would close his eyes and imagine that Iris Malfoy had her arms wrapped around him, and he'd instantly feel better.

He wasn't entirely sure yet, but maybe, _maybe_ one of the huge reasons why he still trudged on was because of her, after all those months.

His feelings for her were weird and senseless and unwarranted, which was why at the end of the war, he desperately pushed them away. He'd been successful thus far, vowing that he'd make the most out of his eighth year by studying up to his heart's content. But then, he didn't really plan on meeting her again and spending a lot of time with her.

With her pressed against him, those feelings he'd hidden at the deepest recesses of his heart burst free and enveloped every single part of him – mind, body, and soul.

"Err… right," she murmured when he still hadn't moved. Iris was slowly pulling herself away from him, jolting him back into the present. Hermes then quickly wrapped his arms around her very tightly, effectively trapping her in his arms.

Iris stilled, before slowly relaxing against him once more. A soft sigh escaped from her lips as she placed her head back against his chest once more. He wondered if she could hear how erratically beating his heart was, but the Slytherin never made any comment about it.

He tentatively placed his chin on the crown of her head, like how he always did, and pulled her tighter against him, afraid that she'd leave once more without saying goodbye.

* * *

"We haven't really seen you in a while, princess," Theo explained when he and Blaise one time stumbled into the Heads common room.

Iris was busy practicing a spell that would put Granger's brilliant centerpiece for the Yule Ball to life. She still wasn't entirely sure if what he was planning would be for the best. After all, she did warn him not to put up a Christmas tree, but he insisted and she had no other choice.

"She doesn't even greet us with a mere hello," Blaise pointed out with a deep sigh. "I told you we shouldn't have bothered."

"Gits," she said with a smile, ushering them closer. Theo sat down on her right and Blaise to her left. "I was just busy planning for the Yule Ball and all."

"Ah, yes, Iris Malfoy, finally in her element," the gangly Slytherin said with a teasing smile. "Isn't this like some kind of rite of passage for future Pureblood wives or something?"

"Of course not," she snapped back. "I just really like planning parties and all."

Blaise, who had been silently surveying their common room, turned to her with a carefully worried look in his eyes. "Granger hasn't been… antagonistic?" he nonchalantly quipped.

Iris made a face. "So, that's why you came in here?" she asked with a frown. "To ask me if Granger's being a bastard or something?"

"What Blaise was trying to ask," Theo quickly added, shooting a quick glare at his idiotic friend, "is have you been all right for the past few weeks, princess? No random hexes thrown your way? No stupid pranks that are actually ridiculously dangerous? Granger hasn't been sending you death threats?"

Blaise snorted. "Nicely phrased," he drawled. Theo threw him another glare.

Iris glanced at them in amusement. "I'm managing," she replied. "No need to both act like knights in shiny armors, gits. I'm perfectly _fine_."

Theo expelled an exaggerated sigh, placing a hand against his heart. "We just want you safe, Iris," he said with a solemn nod. "That's our only sole purpose in life."

"Shut up, Nott," she said with an eye roll.

Blaise placed a comforting hand on the small of her back. "But, honestly, Iris," he urged. "You've been well?"

She fell silent for a moment, reminiscing on the past few days. The pranks had lessened; the death threats from other students almost nil. The prefects were actually listening to some of her suggestions for the Yule Ball now, even others surprisingly agreeing to her new plans. And Granger…

A small blush appeared on both of her fair cheeks.

Granger had been really warm.

Ever since he'd witnessed one of her nightmares and she sought comfort in his arms once more, they'd relaxed around each other. Granger was actually throwing ridiculous jokes here and there, exchanging information and opinions about a particular topic for their essay, and even asking her if her day went well. He was being civil, for goodness' sake, and Iris, being ridiculous herself, soaked up all the attention she was getting from him.

Then, there were moments when waking up was particularly hard for her, and she'd find him in the common room busy doing his homework or revising their perfect plan for the Yule Ball. Most of the time, when his eyes would meet hers, he always knew that she was having a difficult time. He'd set his work aside and open his arms with an inviting smile, waiting until she trudged forward and wrapped her arms around him.

Hermes never said anything to her during those moments and that was all right for Iris. The mere fact that she was wrapped around his arms once more, appreciating the warmth he always exuded, was enough for her.

She thought her trembling had lessened ever since she sought comfort from him once more. Her right hand frequently shook every time she'd remember a specific nightmare during the war. She wondered if it was some repercussion from numerous _Cruciatus_ or something else, but it was starting to become bothersome to her. But then, it had lessened, all because of Granger.

Iris thought the rumor about Granger's infamous Hug of Warmth being miraculous was a load of codswallop. But now… now she wasn't entirely sure.

"Princess?" Theo asked, shaking her off from her reverie. Her grey eyes landed on him. "You kind of zoned out for a moment there."

"Right, sorry," she said with a small laugh. _Merlin_ , apologizing came easily to her nowadays too! "Yes. Yes, I've been well. Really well."

And she meant every word of it, because for the very first time in her life, Iris actually felt at peace. No terrible burden weighed on her shoulders, no constant pressure to prove herself to those she thought mattered the most. She was just getting on, day by day, at her own pace and it was… it was _freeing_.

"Yeah?" Blaise asked with a tentative smile of his own.

She nodded earnestly, her lips stretching into a pretty smile.

"Yeah," she echoed in return.

* * *

They had to go together to the Yule Ball, Headmistress McGonagall said. It was tradition, she added. But Hermes knew this was another ploy for the Headmistress to promote interhouse unity this school-year. Truthfully, Hermes didn't really mind. He didn't plan on taking anyone at all, anyway. It surprised him how Malfoy easily agreed with the plan, wondering if Nott or Zabini hadn't asked her ever since. They were _always_ together so sometimes he wondered… Pureblood society and all…

He shook his head to get rid of such thoughts. Tonight was the Yule Ball after all. He was quite nervous about his plan, afraid that instead of helping the students, it would trigger more distressing memories. But he pushed through it until today, so there was really no backing out now. Hermes had to focus all of his energy for this plan to come into fruition.

He looked at his reflection one last time and smoothed out any visible creases. His dress robes were midnight blue and he left his curls wild and untamed as opposed to the tame curls he had back in fourth year. And, compared to fourth year, his nervousness almost enveloped him whole. He honestly thought he was being ridiculous, because he was just going with _Malfoy_ because of McGonagall's stupid interhouse unity; there was nothing to be nervous about.

With one last firm nod at his reflection, he walked out of his room. Thankfully, Malfoy hadn't come out yet. He tried to ask her one time what she would wear for the Yule Ball so they could match, but the Slytherin merely smirked at him and told him 'to come as yourself'. He wasn't entirely sure what she meant, but hey, he did leave his bushy hair as is.

Hermes glanced at his watch and frowned. They only had five more minutes before the start of the Yule Ball. He did tell her that they should arrive earlier, because they were _Heads_ , but Malfoy merely looked at him as if he was joking.

"Why do girls take a long time, good Merlin," he said with a sigh, sliding down on one of the couches and waited. He grabbed on his Ancient Runes textbook left on the coffee table and browsed through their next lesson, mentally scheduling another reread to take notes.

He was particularly engrossed on the topic about the magical properties of the number nine when he heard Iris' door creak open. "About bloody time," he murmured.

Hermes closed the book and stood up, intent on berating her about the value of punctuality, but words left him completely.

"I'm sorry I'm late," she said, sounding unapologetic at all, as a small smirk graced her face.

She was wearing a long, strapless, midnight blue elegant gown, its color turning a lighter shade of blue until it was completely as white as snow by the time it reached her ankles. Little snowflakes were embroidered on the hem, a touch of glitter as an embellishment to make them look shimmery every time she moved. Her blonde hair was pinned atop of her head in a pretty bun, held by a white, glittery, flower-shaped pin. And her face… _Merlin_ , her face. He was sure she added some glitter around her eyes because they bloody _sparkled_ every time she blinked, her red lips stretched prettily like she knew… _she bloody well_ knew that she looked stunning.

"Granger, really, we're late," she said, smirk still in place, as she daintily walked down the small staircase leading to her room and passed him by. Her smell clouded all of his senses and it took all of his willpower to stumble quickly behind her, still too stunned by her beauty.

Hermes quickly remembered his manners and offered her his arm. She looked at it briefly, her smirk turning into a small, fond smile, before gently placing her hand at the nook of his arm.

"Nice hair, Granger," she commented as they neared the Great Hall.

He blushed and instantly felt conscious with himself, but one brief look at Malfoy made him realize she was _teasing_ him.

"Shut up, Malfoy," he hotly shot back and pathetically attempted to at least make his hair look decent. But then again, his bushy hair had a mind of its own and by the time they arrived at the Great Hall, he gave up.

Hermes slightly faltered in his steps. He expected a lot of people would attend, but only perhaps half of the student body were seen in the dance. He briefly glanced at his watch once more, noting that thirty minutes had already passed since the official start of the dance. Nervousness grew at the pit of his stomach, wondering if this stupid ball would be deemed a failure after all.

"Relax," Iris then said, sensing his inner panicking. "It's still too early, Granger. Nobody arrives at a party on time."

"Why not?" he asked with a small scowl. "People should understand the value of punctuality."

The Head Girl merely sighed and shook her head.

The headmistress greeted them when they neared the refreshments table, complimenting them about the Yule Ball. The Prefects had really gone out of their way to design the Great Hall. It was strangely reminiscent of their Yule Ball back in fourth year with added embellishments just to increase the Christmas cheer.

He smiled a little at the curious looks the students were shooting at a mighty, tall tree at the very front, its branches bare and almost withered. It looked out-of-place in the beautifully designed Great Hall and his nervousness came back once more.

What if it was stupid and cheesy? What if his plan was bound to fail?

" _Merlin_ , Granger, stop overthinking," the blonde cajoled. "I can practically sense your terror and it's annoying."

He glanced down at Malfoy again, languidly leaning against one of the small tables in the room and drinking from a glass. She was looking at him with amusement in her eyes and in retaliation, he glared through his curly fringes. He remembered how she warned him his plan would backfire before agreeing to it anyway. He wasn't sure if she was teasing him again or not, but before he could dwell on it further, Ginny caught his arm.

"Nobody's coming up to the booth," she whispered under her breath, nervously shooting a glance at the small silver box sitting on top of a table beside the depressing tree. "We did announce to the student body what to do, but well…" She looked away from his eyes and frowned. "They don't really feel comfortable approaching the tree. They think someone's going to be strung up again or something…"

His eyes widened in panic and he looked over at Malfoy. "I did warn you about putting a Christmas tree," she said, starting to look worried herself.

Suddenly, something wet hit him just at the nape of his neck. Shocked with the cold, Hermes quickly swivelled around to berate the prankster, but was instead met with a flurry of red and black hair, two sets of arms wrapping around him and engulfing him in the most breathtaking hug he had ever received. He was lifted off the floor a few inches maybe, before he finally recognized Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.

"Harry! Ron!" he gasped once his feet touched on the floor and he could properly breathe.

Identical grins were stretched widely on their faces. "Couldn't miss a party you planned, Hermes," Harry said, swinging an arm over his shoulders. "I mean, a swot and a party? Spells like disaster!"

"Oi!" Hermes shot back with a withering glare. Ron snickered behind his hand, prompting Hermes to look back at him. His eyebrows almost flew behind his fringes. "Nice dress robes, Ronald," he pointed out with a small smile. "I see you've finally ditched your aunt's dress robes this time."

Ron's ears turned into a brilliant shade of red that reached the tips of his ears. "Shut up, wanker," he said, playfully hitting his shoulder. He was handsomely dressed with a simple black dress robes, with less frills and cobwebs. "Being an auror pays you handsomely so – " He was cut off when Ginny practically tackled Harry with a bear hug of her own and proceeded to snog him senselessly.

"OI! OI! I'M BLOODY HERE!" Ron bellowed, turning sickly green this time.

Harry sheepishly pulled away while Ginny rolled her eyes. "Right, sorry mate," he said, rubbing the nape of his neck in embarrassment.

Ron groaned and turned to Hermes. "Honestly, ever since they got back together, they're insufferable," he whined. Ginny leaned towards him to give him a resounding slap on his arm. "OI! I was telling the truth. _Why_ did Merlin think it funny for my best mate and my younger sister to start dating? My eyes ha – Holy Mother of Merlin, who's that?"

His eyes had gone wide and his jaw dropped at something that had caught his eyes. Hermes followed his line of vision and saw Malfoy, silently looking at the reunited Golden Trio with thinly veiled amusement in her eyes.

"Weasley," she greeted with a pompous smirk.

If it were possible, Ron's eyes grew wider. His cheeks grew red once more as he sputtered out "M-Malfoy?"

"The one and only," she said, a coy glint in her eyes. Hermes swallowed down the dangerous feeling rising up from his stomach once more with just the sight of her.

Iris' eyes connected with his. "I'll be with Nott and Zabini if you need me, Granger," she said, her smirk morphing into a small smile. "I'll leave you to reunite with the Two Idiots."

"Who're you calling an idiot?" Ron shot back in annoyance, for old time's sake, but the blush on his cheek was still bloody unmistakable.

Harry, on the other hand, surprisingly took a step towards Malfoy. She stopped in her tracks in astonishment, then hesitantly greeted him with a curt, "Potter."

"How's your mother?" his best friend asked amicably.

Iris' eyebrows knitted slightly in confusion. "She is well," she slowly replied, her eyes now narrowing in suspicion. "Why do you ask?"

Harry merely shrugged then looked away from her, effectively ending their conversation.

The Slytherin shot a bemused look at Hermes, but the Head Boy merely shrugged himself, unsure of Harry's strange civility.

Malfoy bid her goodbye once more and sauntered towards her best friends. Hermes' eyes lingered a little bit at her milky neck, before catching himself and hastily looking away.

"That was Malfoy?" Ron gushed out, still clearly in disbelief. He gesticulated wildly at the spot where she was standing at a while ago. "I mean – she had always been – but today –"

"Speak coherently, wanker," Harry said with a laugh, hitting him at the back of his head.

"How could she look like that?" Ron cried out. "No one that evil could look like that, I mean bloody hell!"

"She isn't evil," Hermes automatically replied, his eyes widening when Harry spoke the exact same words at the same time. The curly-haired brunet turned to his bespectacled best friend in question. "And what was that, Harry Potter? Was that civility?"

The-Boy-Who-Lived sighed. "Well, I did tell you her mother lied when Voldemort asked if I was dead," he reminded, ignoring Ron's slight flinch upon hearing the dead dark lord's name. "And, _you know_ , she denied knowing us back at the Malfoy Manor when…" Instead of completing his sentence, his emerald eyes settled on his left sleeve where his 'Mudblood' scar was hidden.

"Bloody hell," Ron murmured, shaking his head.

"Okay, so enough about Malfoy now," Harry said, smoothly changing the subject. His eyes now landed on the depressing looking tree at the very front of the Great Hall. "Besides seeing you, Hermes, I wanted to attend the Yule Ball too because Ginny was excitedly telling me about this brilliant plan of yours."

"Nobody's approaching," the youngest redhead reminded.

Hermes sighed. "Maybe they just need to see it first before deeming it safe," he replied.

"What is this brilliant plan of yours anyway?" Ron asked, finally composing himself.

"Come on," he said. "You'll see."

The other students were parting away like the Red Sea while the Golden Trio, Heroes of the Wizarding World, meandered through until they reached the silver box beside the tree.

"Merlin, I can never get used to the stares," Ron murmured under his breath, a blush once again creeping up his neck.

Now that he pointed it out, Hermes suddenly felt nervous again. Ginny gave him an encouraging grin as he finally inserted his hand inside the box. When he pulled out his hand, he was now clutching a small fir leaf.

"A leaf?" Harry asked in disbelief. "That's terribly anticlimactic."

"The magic is just about to start," Ginny said with an excited grin.

Hermes waved the leaf towards his best friends' direction. "Once you get a leaf, you can think about your wish, your biggest regret, your hope… It doesn't matter. It doesn't guarantee that your wishes will be granted or you'll forget your regrets but… you know, just putting them into proper words may actually help," he said. "Then, once you're done, give it a little blow."

To demonstrate, he tightly held the leaf in his hands and closed his eyes. _'Please, please, please,'_ he thought. _'For the love of all good and holy, the only thing I fervently wished more than living itself is that my parents will never forget me in this lifetime.'_

He slowly opened his eyes and blew a small puff of air at the leaf. Suddenly, a firefly appeared at the tip of the leaf, its bottom brilliantly illuminated. Its wings sprung open and gently flew away with the leaf, and settling on one of the branches of the tree.

"It worked!" Ginny exclaimed.

Hermes beamed widely. "Thank Merlin it did," he said. His eyes misted a little at the sole light on the depressing tree. This idea came to him when he remembered a particular story his mother told him when he was younger. She told him that when he saw a firefly, he had to make a wish. The firefly's brilliant light would then guide him towards his dream. It was a children's fairytale, that much he knew, but it held such a symbolic thing to him that even the prefects were rendered silent when he recounted the tale.

"I read somewhere once, about the fireflies," Hermes whispered, unbeknownst to him that the whole hall had grown quiet with the display of simple magic. "That fireflies symbolized nostalgic memories of youth and innocence." He sadly smiled and looked over at his best friends. "The war had been particularly difficult for us, the _children_ , don't you think? Maybe it's nice to remind us a little of the times when we were happy and innocent."

Harry gave him a watery smile, his emerald eyes brighter than normal. "It's beautiful, Hermes," he said. "May I?"

"Of course, Harry," Hermes said with a fond smile.

Harry walked towards the silver box and pulled out a small leaf. He closed his eyes and stayed silent, perhaps longer than Hermes did. He wondered what his best friend was wishing, or regretting, or perhaps both. When Harry opened his eyes, a small tear slipped down from his eyes as he blew air into the leaf. An illuminated firefly appeared and flew away with the leaf, perching on another branch.

For a moment, Hermes saw a wide-eyed eleven-year-old Harry Potter, emerald eyes gleaming at another beautiful display of magic.

His eyes watered a bit, noting the gathered tears at an older, gaunter, wiser version of his best friend. They'd been through much, but Harry had it worse but he still trudged on, despite all the challenges and grief that barrelled through him along the way. In all honesty, as he crafted this masterful centerpiece for the Yule Ball, it was Harry he had in his mind most of the time.

"Thank you," Harry said with a watery smile.

Hermes grinned in return, his chin wobbling a little.

"Anything for you, Harry."

* * *

Iris couldn't stop staring at the illuminated bewitched Christmas tree standing at the very front of the Great Hall.

After Hermes' initiative, showing that brilliant, _brilliant_ plan of his, people had now been clamoring towards the silver box to whisper their hopes or regrets or dreams. The depressing, dead tree now actually looked like a beautiful Christmas tree, lit with little fireflies fluttering about.

Her heart clenched at the sight, noting that some left tearfully after witnessing the magic unfold before their eyes. Some actually couldn't keep their eyes off the tree, too, just like her.

Iris managed to briefly tear her gaze away from it to search for Granger among the crowd. She found him enjoying a drink with Potter and Weasley, boisterously laughing over something Weasley joked. Brief images of the Golden Trio during their younger years flashed before her eyes; wryly smiling, she remembered how jealous she was of their friendship.

Hermes seemed to sense her eyes because the next thing she knew, his eyes were locked onto hers. Her heart stuttered for a moment as curiosity shrouded his honey-colored ones, before she forced herself to gaze away.

Merlin, ever since she started hugging him again during her bleakest days, the feelings she had desperately shoved away during the war resurfaced with a full force. She knew such feelings were dangerous back then; Voldemort constantly subjecting her under Legilimancy was enough proof to keep such risky thoughts away. Now that the war had ended, well, no one was stopping her now.

Sighing, Iris shakily approached the refreshments table and donned one glass.

"You all right, princess?"

She smiled as Theo sidled beside her, grabbing one glass for himself.

"You look a bit shaken," Blaise concurred, peering down at her face.

"I'm fine," she easily lied. "It's been an exhausting night."

Her eyes landed on the Christmas tree once again.

"Brilliant magic, that one is," Theo whispered as he followed her line of vision. "It's… it's…"

"Magical?" Iris hopefully supplemented because honestly, that word fitted the image before her.

"Yeah," he said with a smile. He looked back down at the blonde and asked, "Have you made your own wish?"

Iris shook her head.

"Why not?" Blaise asked.

"And you have?" She smiled when they simultaneously nodded her head. "I didn't want to fight my way through a crowd," was her honest reply.

"There's no one there now," Theo pointed out. Iris' eyes landed on the silver box beside the Christmas tree and noted that her friend was right. "Why don't you try it, Iris? It's… it can help. _Well_ , just for today, I suppose."

"Do you want us to come with you?" Blaise worriedly asked, but Iris was already shaking her head.

"Go have fun, you gits," she laughingly replied, pushing both of them away towards the dance floor. "Stop worrying too much about me."

"Never," Theo vehemently replied.

Her heart swelled with deep gratitude, because although she had been constantly pushing them away, especially on days when it was blatantly obvious she needed someone, they stuck through. The jealousy she had with the bond forged by the Golden Trio had simmered down because she had her own set of friends who would always have her back.

"Seriously," she insisted, not bothering to hide her smile anymore. Smiling nowadays seemed easier without Lucius Malfoy constantly breathing down her neck. "I'm sure your dates are already sending me dark glares for stealing you blokes away on such a beautiful party."

She reached out both of her hands to hold onto each of theirs, like how they always did when they needed support from each other during seventh year. She hadn't really thought about it properly because her mind was preoccupied too much about her task and her position, but Iris now knew she wouldn't be able to survive last year if these blokes weren't with her.

They squeezed her hand back and hesitantly broke away. Theo promised they'd escort her back to her dormitories if she wished to retire for the night, and finally pulled Blaise away towards the dance floor.

Slightly smiling, Iris' eyes landed on that silver box once more. She took a deep breath and meandered through the crowd, people parting ways for her like she had dragonpox. The hostility from other students had lessened, thank Merlin, but some still liked glaring at her back or muttering insults under their breaths.

She ignored all of them as she finally reached the silver box. She was surprised that the box was almost empty as she pulled out one leaf. She tightly held the leaf and closed her eyes and thought of the thing she wished for the most.

' _I hope… I hope I could be better.'_

Her eyes were misty as she blew a breath against the leaf. A firefly sprang to life and flew away with her leaf, settling on a branch somewhere in the Christmas tree.

Iris stared for a little longer, wondering if it might bring a Christmas miracle. If she were being honest with herself, she had this tiny belief that it might, it just might, because this was Hermes Granger's plan.

And, well, Hermes Granger bloody brings miracles.

She silently smiled to herself and purposively walked out of the Great Hall, intent to get away from the chaotic party just for a while.

The night was serene and quiet. The moon nestled high above the velvety sky, surrounded by twinkling stars. She smiled because the night was clear and peaceful and for a moment, she let all her worries and fears drift away with the night clouds.

She found herself standing at the banks of the Black Lake. The moon reflected prettily on the dark waters, some fishes swimming about and disturbing the almost stillness of the lake.

Iris thought of her mother, wondering if she was well. Narcissa had written to her religiously for the past few months, assuring her that she was well, but Iris still worried for her. Still, based from stories, she concluded Narcissa was having fun tearing away all the darkness from the Malfoy Manor and cultivating warmth and love Iris wished she knew when she was younger. Narcissa told her about the ensemble of flowers growing all over their gardens, how she got rid of those pesky, pretentious albino peacocks, and repainting the morose walls with lighter, warmer colors. She couldn't wait to get home just to see what her mother had done with the Malfoy Manor.

"What are you doing outside?"

Her eyes widened, recognizing Granger's voice, and turned around to see him curiously looking at her.

For a moment, she tried to take in his image, smirking slightly at how impossibly disheveled his bushy hair was compared to his impeccable dress robes. She remembered how he had managed to tame it back in fourth year and although he did look quite dashing, she thought it wasn't him at all. His bushy hair was his single, prominent feature and she hoped he would never attempt to tame it anymore.

"I needed some fresh air," she then said, knowing he was still waiting for an answer. "What are _you_ doing outside?"

He lightly blushed and looked away, nervously scratching his cheek. "Err… same," he lamely offered, prompting her to quirk an eyebrow.

"Right," she said, smirk still in place, before turning around once more to look over the Black Lake.

She heard his footsteps until Granger was standing beside her. He was close enough for her to feel the warmth radiating from him, and she had to stop herself from snaking her arms around him just to feel his warmth. _Merlin_ , Iris had to stop herself from doing stupid things in front of Granger for the past few weeks. It was starting to get a little exhausting.

"You did well," she finally said, her gaze straight ahead. "Back in the Yule Ball. The… the Christmas tree was amazing."

"It wasn't all _me_ ," he insisted. "You helped, and the other prefects. It was all of us, really."

"But it was your plan," she protested with a smile. "Mighty stubborn you were when some of us doubted it would be successful, though."

He softly chuckled. "Mighty stubborn, yep that's me," he concurred wholeheartedly.

They fell into amicable silence and Iris contented herself in watching the Giant Squid languidly swimming around the Black Lake.

"Did you… did you try it?" he quipped, breaking the silence between them.

She stared up at him in curiosity. "Try what?"

"The pine leaf magic thing," he explained with a laugh.

Iris blinked when he shifted his gaze to meet hers. "Yeah," she said, almost breathlessly, surprised to see his honey-colored eyes still bright and alit despite the darkness surrounding them. "Of course, I did."

"What did you wish for?" he asked.

She snorted and looked away. "Why are you interested to know?" she asked, rolling her eyes.

"Just curious," he said with a casual shrug.

Iris frowned and slightly shook her head. "It's…" She lifted her chin and looked at him with challenge in her eyes. "I'll tell you mine if you tell yours first."

He hesitated, which immensely relieved Iris. She wasn't sure what his reaction would be with her wish. It was, after all, too _personal_ and she wasn't ready to share such things to other people, most especially with this fascinating man beside her.

"I wished…" His words died down when she looked back at him in surprise, clearly not expecting that he would actually agree with her. Sorrow appeared in his eyes as he sadly met her grey ones. "I wished that my parents wouldn't forget me in this lifetime."

Iris knitted her eyebrows, unsure of what he meant.

"Err… you see, before the ministry fell, I _Obliviated_ my parents," he revealed. Iris' eyes widened in shock, prompting him to guiltily stare at his shoes. "It wasn't… I mean it was a terrible thing to do, but what was I to do? I was a _Muggleborn_ , more importantly Harry Potter's best friend. I'm sure Voldemort wouldn't think twice hunting down my parents just to get to me."

She flinched at the mention of that monster's name, but he seemed to not notice.

"I sent them away to Australia, hoping to protect them," he continued with a sigh. He looked back into her eyes. "I've been talking with some Memory Healers to restore their memories back, but it's taking a _long_ time. I'm not sure…"

He paused, brief terror flitting on his face. It was replaced by deep worry and Iris had to stop herself from reaching forward to gently smoothen the creases away from his forehead.

Instead, she steadfastly stared at her shoes and softly murmured, "I hoped to be better."

He met her claim with silence and she wondered if he thought her wish was stupid and weird. He wouldn't understand because he'd always been _better_ – better than her in all ways. Iris always wished she had his courage, but then again she wasn't Sorted in Gryffindor. Self-preservation had always been her top priority.

She looked at him at her periphery but his face was now shrouded in darkness. She couldn't decipher his expression.

"I didn't really want to come back to Hogwarts," she softly confessed, not sure why she was suddenly confiding to him. But he was warm and it was dark and her heart ached; Iris was tired trying to keep these things to herself. "But Mother insisted, telling me that I should try to prove myself to the Wizarding World. To be… to be the better Malfoy among all of us." She ruefully smiled at the black waters. "Until now, I don't really know how."

She almost jumped in surprise when he touched her elbow. Iris looked up at him, surprised to see that there was a myriad of emotions in his eyes.

"You are, you know," he simply reassured.

"The better Malfoy?" she asked, bemused. When he earnestly nodded his head, Iris released a hollow laugh and shook her head. "I told you I've done a lot of atrocious things in the past, Granger. Things I'm sure would land me a lifetime imprisonment in Azkaban. _Or_ , maybe get myself Kissed by a Dementor."

"And _I_ told you that most of those things were due to your desire to spare your family from Voldemort's wrath," he said, his hold on her elbow tightening when she flinched once more at the mention of the dark lord's name. "We both did unforgivable things because of this war, Malfoy. I _Obliviated_ my parents without their consent, for starters. I fucked up with their mind, erased everything they knew about me, because I thought it's what was best for them. Mum will be bloody thunderous, I'm sure about it, but I'd gladly do that again if it meant they will be saved."

"Don't compare yourself to me like that, Granger," she protested. "You are so much better than me, in all ways." She slightly shook but still resolutely held his gaze. "I could have chosen another path, a more difficult one, but I was stupid and cowardly and thought of the easy way out. If it meant I would spend my whole life paying for all the horrible things I have done, then so be it."

He released a tired sigh and absentmindedly brushed away a strand of her hair that fell in her eyes. " _Merlin_ , you are exasperating," he claimed. Iris' eyes flashed in indignation, but he wasn't finished. "Why can't you understand that like all those who've lost a great deal during the bloody war, you also deserve a second chance?"

"Because I don't," she grounded out. "I _don't_ , Granger, and you can't make me think otherwise."

His eyes melted into that particular understanding that tugged the very strings of her heart. "You do, Malfoy," he countered despite her words. "Despite everything you've done." He took a deep breath and squeezed her elbow. "My mother used to tell me that time won't heal anything if we don't surrender our lies. You said you hoped to be better, Malfoy. You've already recognized all the wrong things you've done in your life; that's already a big step. But for you to really be better, you have to stop lying to yourself that you don't deserve a second chance. Because you do, _you_ desperately wished you do, because you've been robbed off from your childhood too and it wasn't fair."

Her eyes clouded with tears. "Stop trying to justify my actions, Granger," she pleaded, a small tear sliding from her eyes.

"I'm not," he said with a sad smile. "I'm just trying to make you see that it isn't the end for you yet, Malfoy. You can do… you can do _so much more_ in this new world."

"Stop!" she harshly claimed. "Stop it! I told you to stop being _kind_ because I don't deserve it."

"You do," he soothed, lifting his hand to place it against her cheek. "You do, Malfoy. You deserve the kindness you've never gotten from people that mattered the most."

She openly cried. His eyes were so warm with promises and kindness and it hurt her heart. "Why are you doing this?" she softly asked amidst her swimming vision. Granger was leaning closer, his face the closest she'd ever seen.

"Because," he murmured, his eyes already fluttering close.

Iris stopped breathing when his soft lips pressed against hers.


	10. Eighth Year: Part III

* * *

_Like a force to be reckoned with  
_ _A mighty ocean or a gentle kiss  
_ _I will love you with every single thing I have_

\- Two by Sleeping at Last

* * *

Iris Malfoy was avoiding him and it was starting to drive him insane already.

Hermes feared he might have freaked her out during the Yule Ball. Perhaps, he had been a bit too forward… too _eager_. His lips hadn't been pressed against hers for very long when she immediately jerked away and bounded back to the castle without a single glance back. He, on the other hand, stupidly stared at her retreating back with horror and guilt, silently berating himself for losing control.

But she was… she was radiant that night and beautiful and how could he stop himself when she was looking at him like that? Ashamed, he knew he'd always wanted to do that ever since sixth year, when Malfoy started pulling him into hidden alcoves and empty classrooms just to wrap her arms around his torso. There were moments when he had to stop himself from tilting down and brushing his lips against hers because Merlin, _dear Merlin_ , Malfoy was so close and her scent was dizzying and she was soft against his arms and Hermes had never felt this way before.

He couldn't fault her every time she scuttled away when he was within sight. Hermes tried to apologize one too many times but Iris would go away even before he had the chance.

Christmas holidays was a blessed distraction because Malfoy went home while he spent the remaining break with the Weasleys. They'd invited him over because his house was still devoid of his parents and it would be painful to spend the break alone. The Weasleys were a nice distraction, and once Harry came over to spend the remaining days of December, thoughts of Iris Malfoy's lips and eyes momentarily left him alone.

By the time he was seated in Hogwarts Express, Hermes felt wildly nervous in seeing her. He was relieved she didn't sit with him in the Heads' Compartment; he'd been trying to come up with a decent conversation starter if she ever did show up until they finally reached Hogwarts.

When he came inside their shared common room, the Slytherin hilariously jumped in fright and hastily gathered her things. She was already clambering towards her room when Hermes released a tired sigh.

"Malfoy," he called out. Thankfully, she stopped fleeing but hadn't turned around to look at him.

Hermes carefully walked closer. "I…"

He paused and bit his bottom lip. What was he going to say? That he'd never stopped thinking about her lips even though they were miles apart? That he'd really liked her, honest-to-Merlin like _like_ her because she was beautiful and brilliant and fiery? That he'd like to get to know her better, hold her hand when they're together, kiss her freely without holding back?

Her shoulders were tensed when he finally stopped a few feet away from her.

With a sinking heart, he knew what he should say instead. "If… if puts your mind at ease," he started, "you can forget everything that happened during the Yule Ball, Malfoy."

He frowned, knowing it was for the best, if they were going to continue working as Heads. Although their biggest project had finally ended, they still had to continue working together until the end of the school-year.

She hadn't moved for a few more minutes and Hermes was starting to lose confidence. He faltered in his steps and expelled a soft sigh. If she wanted to continue avoiding him, then so be it. He'd just work extra harder in the following days until she would feel comfortable around him once more.

Hermes' eyes quickly darted back at her when all of her things noisily slid down from her hands. Malfoy had whipped around as fast as lightning, her grey eyes ablazed with startling emotions, and before he knew it, she was barreling towards him. She threw her arms around him and he easily caught her, his arms also automatically sliding around her waist.

And then… and then she was kissing him and his brain effectively shut down.

She was kissing him with so much urgency and desperation and Hermes couldn't properly breathe. She was kissing him like her life depended on it, like… like she had wanted to do this for a very long time too.

He released a strangled laugh, pulling her closer to him because he needed to feel her _more_ , and Iris practically melted against his arms.

She tasted like vanilla and toffee, of summers and tears and promises, and his nose filled with her wonderful scent. Her hands were buried in his hair, gently tugging him lower so that she could properly meet his lips with equal fervor.

But, the Slytherin slowly pulled away and to his horror, he emitted a disappointed groan at the back of his throat. Hermes blearily blinked numerous times, trying to dispel the sudden haze that settled in his brain. Iris was staring back at him with wide, startled eyes; her cheeks painted red. Her lips were slightly parted, a little swollen due to his breathtaking kiss.

Thankfully, she hadn't run away.

"That was – I mean – " Words seemed to leave him completely, unable to form a coherent thought after that amazing kiss.

And then, her eyes melted into warmth that sent pleasant tingles down his spine. She was laughing, freely laughing, and Hermes admittedly stared a little too long because he hadn't seen her so openly happy and relaxed before.

"Bloody hell," was all she managed to say.

"You're not… you're not mad?" he tentatively asked, afraid that she'd snap out from her strange behavior and start avoiding him all together.

"I-I'm not," she stuttered, her cheeks turning redder. She shifted her gaze away from him and started to shyly bite her bottom lip. Hermes nervously swallowed, suddenly having an irrational urge of freeing her bottom lip with his own lips.

"I've wanted to kiss you for a very, _very_ long time," he confessed, blushing himself. Iris' eyes looked back at him in surprise, clearly not expecting his confession. He hesitantly placed a hand against her cheek. The Slytherin jolted in surprise but thankfully didn't pull away. "You have… you have no idea." He leant closer and brushed a kiss against her forehead.

She gave him a smile he had never seen her wear before, a smile that lit up all the features on her face and made his heart almost leap out from his chest.

Concluding that Iris Malfoy wasn't entirely mad at all, he dipped his head once more to capture her lips into another breathtaking kiss.

* * *

Simply put, they were inseparable.

Hermes spent most of his time in the Common Room, already setting up a makeshift study table near the fireplace for him to accomplish all his homeworks. Iris, on the other hand, studied anywhere she deemed comfortable. Most of the time, she would lounge on one of the overstuffed couches until she fell asleep.

The Gryffindor incessantly pestered her to study with him in the library; he was actually missing that place, what with the quiet and towering bookshelves. Now, because of their new… _relationship,_ well, Hermes had to borrow all the books he needed for an essay just so they could study together in the Common Room.

She would only look at him with a glare. " _I'd rather you don't Grangerify me, Granger_ ," she seriously pointed out one time, refusing to step foot in a library just to _study_.

" _You've been to the library numerous times before_ ," he whined, itching to breathe in the smell of old books and parchments.

Iris gave him a small secret smirk, coyly grabbing onto his book and tossing it away. " _And what do you think is the reason for that_?" she slyly asked. She never really gave him any chance to think about it as he was too busy pulling her close and angling her head to kiss her deeply.

It was… it was a nice change, to be unbelievably attached to another person. Hermes was so used to following Harry and Ron around wherever they went, with moments of alone time just so he could catch up with something he loved to do – studying. But with her… it was like, he wanted to make up for the lost time they had. He wanted to make up for the time they almost always constantly bickered, oblivious to the fact that they were, in fact, very much attracted to each other.

 _Merlin_ , he still couldn't wrap his head around the idea of spending his every day with Iris Malfoy. He could already imagine a twelve-year-old Hermes Granger looking at him as if he'd gone barmy.

It didn't take too long for him to confess that he really liked her, after all these years. They were in the middle of a furious snog, and Iris was sitting on his lap, her hands buried as usual in his bushy hair. When he broke away just to gulp a few much needed air, he'd seen her face. Her grey eyes were bright, her cheeks pink, and she was wearing that very same smile that made his heart leap into his throat.

"I like you," he confessed without hesitation.

Her eyes widened in disbelief and pulled away from him. Hermes blushed, realizing that she was practically on his lap and he had _practically_ confessed his feelings.

"Only if you stopped being mean and hurtling insults like there's no tomorrow, that is," he hastily added, just to lighten the suddenly tensed atmosphere.

Her eyebrows flew up to her hairline. Iris leaned closer and playfully smacked the back of his neck.

"Blimey, Iris, I was joking," he murmured, rubbing his smarting neck. She blushed at how he addressed her, but Hermes couldn't really call her 'Malfoy', now that they'd been snogging senselessly, could he? Her first name rolled out from his mouth with ease, having called her as such in his mind for a very long time already. 'Malfoy' was a bully, mean-spirited child and 'Iris'… 'Iris' was beautiful and amazing and wonderful and… and…

Hermes sighed in defeat. Good Godric, who knew Malfoy could actually reduce him into a blubbering fool? Hermes Granger always prided himself because he was rational and intelligent. Feelings were such messy things, one he'd never really anticipated at all.

"Shut up, Granger," she grumbled, hooking both of her arms around his neck once more. She never really got used to calling him _'Hermes'_ , explaining that old habits die hard, but Hermes sometimes fancied himself into thinking his name sounded like a term of endearment when it came from her lips.

He sheepishly looked back at her and wondered if he'd freaked her out once more. He was bloody well new with this feelings and relationships; Harry and Ron were admittedly more knowledgeable in this part and he would very much want to ask questions about these things. He had tried to research his beloved books last sixth year when he found out he was attracted to Iris Malfoy of all people, but they never made sense. It didn't sit well with him – a person who thrived in finding the answers to all the complex questions in this universe.

Iris shifted closer, her body still pressed against him, and Hermes tried really, _really_ hard not to think about how tantalizing she felt in his arms. His body was completely reacting to her proximity and he bloody well knew she could feel it, if not for that sneaky smirk on her face. She still hadn't slid off from his lap and took it as a good sign.

He reached forward and brushed her hair away. "I like you," he dared to repeat once more. He placed a hand against her cheek and darted a glance at her lips. "I really like you."

He didn't wait for her reply as he captured her lips for another proper kiss.

* * *

Hermes rubbed a hand over his tired face.

He had been rereading his Transfiguration essay for _hours_ and yet, he wasn't satisfied. He frowned at his Transfiguration textbook. He tried to search for anything he could add to his homework in his textbook, but it proved to be futile.

Sighing, he knew he needed to go to the library to search for other sources. "I need to go to the library," he murmured towards the blonde, sprawled languidly on the overstuffed couch with her head on top of his lap.

"Hmm?" she asked, seemingly distracted.

Hermes frowned at her abandoned Transfiguration essay, spying that she still hadn't written at least a foot. Granted, this essay wasn't due until two weeks from now, but Hermes insisted that they should finish it tonight. Iris would normally roll her eyes at his general swottiness and insist that there were far better _things_ to do than study, but to his surprise, she merely sighed and relented.

Now that he wasn't busy with his essay, he was able to note that the blonde Slytherin looked distracted.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, reaching forward to fondly brush her silky hair away from her face.

She stared up at him with troubled, grey eyes. "Nothing's wrong," she quickly replied. "Go finish your essay, Granger."

"I have to go to the library to finish it," he repeated. "Didn't you hear me the first time?"

Iris frowned and sat back up. "Fine," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "I'll come with you."

Hermes' eyes widened. "Now, something's definitely wrong because you're just agreeing to _everything_ that I'm saying," he accused. She scowled and tried to protest, but he already caught her hand and frowned. "Come on, tell me what's bothering you. Maybe I can help?"

She grumbled to herself before slumping. "You can't help," she pointed out. Hermes continued to pointedly look at her until she finally relented. Her cheeks reddened a little and she shifted her gaze away from his worried browns. "It's… tonight's the try-outs for the Slytherin Quidditch team."

"And?" he urged, prompting her to elaborate.

"And _Astoria Greengrass_ is going to tryout for Seeker!" she floundered, her eyes blazing with pure indignation.

"O-kay," he slowly said. He'd never really interacted with the younger Greengrass before. He knew her older sister, of course, and she acted like Pansy Parkinson in all ways. He remembered seeing her sashaying the corridors of Hogwarts before and that's about it.

"The Slytherin Quidditch team is _fucked_ if they let Greengrass play as Seeker," she continued. "That witch can't even catch a snitch if she tried to! Too busy maintaining her manicured nails impeccable and fixing her hair midair." She clenched her hands into tight fists and glared at Hermes. "I heard she was unopposed this time and _blimey_ , the Slytherin Quidditch team will be surely doomed."

"Doomed?" Hermes echoed, a humored shine in his eyes.

"Doomed," she reiterated with a serious nod.

The corners of his lips twitched as he returned to his Transfiguration textbook. "Well, maybe _someone_ has to step in to stop Astoria Greengrass from becoming a Seeker," he offered nonchalantly. At the corner of his eyes, Iris frowned, now deep in thought.

"I guess." She distractedly wound her arms around his torso and snuggled against his neck. His body reacted with her close proximity and he really wanted to kiss her right now, but he knew Iris' mind was miles away.

"So… library?" he offered after a minute.

The Slytherin was silent, before she slowly extracted herself away from his embrace. "Change of plans," she muttered quickly. "I have… _somewhere_ else to go to."

Before he could ask her to elaborate, Iris was already running towards her room. Hermes chuckled under his breath and went back to his essay.

"Don't wait for me," she called out, her head sticking out from her room. "I'm going to visit Blaise and Theo in the Slytherin dungeons."

Hermes made it a point to look the other way when she practically zoomed out of their dormitory, her precious Nimbus 2001 slung across her shoulders.

Once she was gone, Hermes gathered his things and strode towards the library, silently wishing the blonde good luck.

When he came back later that night, fully satisfied with his accomplished Transfiguration essay, he was surprised to see that Iris was sitting primly on one of the overstuffed couches. She was still clad in her Slytherin Quidditch robes, her beloved broomstick leaning against the coffee table.

Her cheeks were still flushed from flying, her immaculate hair a little disheveled. Hermes took a deep breath, heart stuttering at the sight of her illuminated figure. Her eyes were alit and her lips stretched widely into a huge smile.

 _Merlin_ , she looked beautiful.

"So, I take it your visit with Nott and Zabini had been fruitful?" he teased.

Her cheeks reddened in embarrassment but her smile did not fall. "Granger," she gushed. Hermes grinned and clutched onto her outstretched hands. "I got in! I'm the new Slytherin Seeker!"

He was relieved. Although his research in the library had proven to be successful, he was still quite distracted, knowing that Iris was trying out for the Slytherin Quidditch team. He remembered her words last time he suggested she try out for the sport she clearly loved. _'I don't deserve it_ ,' she simply pointed out in dismissal. It made his heart swell a tiny bit, knowing that Iris was one step closer to accepting her second chance.

"I didn't doubt you would," he confessed.

A sly smirk appeared on the blonde's face. "You should have seen Astoria Greengrass' face when she found out I was vying for the same position," she recounted.

Hermes smiled and silently strode closer. Iris immediately stood up and easily slid her arms around his torso. "You have to watch my games, Granger," she demanded.

"I hate Quidditch," he quipped, placing his chin on top of her head. She smelled of rain and spring and it made his heart flutter.

"I _hate_ studying," she countered, tilting her head to give him a withering glare. "But I accompany you every time you suggest we start our homework. _So_ , payback."

He quirked an amused eyebrow. "You don't hate studying," he retorted. He remembered her eager scribbles on her parchment, the excited glint in her eyes every time she discovered a new information, and her odd habit of chewing on the end of her quill when she came across a particularly difficult passage. He liked watching her study sometimes, and he never realized that Iris Malfoy _actually_ enjoyed studying. He used to think she was just naturally gifted in terms of knowledge, perhaps being tutored by numerous teachers back when she was younger, which was why she was constantly second in their class. It annoyed him sometimes how he had to study extra harder, spend more times in the library, reread passages hither thither and _never_ saw her study at least once in the library.

Now, he found out that she'd rather not show to people that she was, simply put, just as _swotty_ as he was.

"The first game's against Ravenclaw," she insisted and started rambling about the other team's strengths and weaknesses and how she would loudly crush them all for even doubting her Seeker skills.

He hated Quidditch, truly, but maybe he didn't hate it _that_ much when it was her who was talking about it.

* * *

Iris woke up with a jolt.

Terror briefly ceased her whole as she clutched her wand and scrambled out of her bed.

" _Lumos_ ," she murmured, nervously scanning her whole room to locate the source of the sound. She was sure she heard a 'crash' somewhere. Months of living with Voldemort under the same roof made her fidgety even with the slightest of sounds. She'd long learned that she shouldn't easily dismiss things that deemed safe at first.

Swallowing down her trepidation, she willed her racing heart to slow its pace. After another quick sweep, she made sure that there was nothing amiss in her bedroom, before finally accepting that the 'crash' she heard might be from a dream.

The blonde slid back onto her bed but still held tightly onto her wand. She strained her ears for any strange noises, this time pinpointing soft 'thuds'. Her eyes widened as she stared at the wall that divided her bedroom with Hermes.

' _Granger,'_ she thought, immediately shooting out from her bed and running out of her room. She threw a brief once over at their common just to make sure there weren't any intruders before barging into the Gryffindor's room.

His room was drenched in darkness but she could make out his silhouette. He was madly thrashing about, soft whimpers escaping from his lips. She couldn't make out the words coming out from his mouth but she knew he was having a nightmare.

"Granger," she called out, hastily walking towards his bed. She illuminated his room with a swish of her wand. She peered at his form and paled, noting the beads of sweat on his forehead and the unmistakable terror on his face. His blanket was tangled with his writhing body and more whimpers escaped from his mouth.

"Granger," she rasped out once more, leaning down to place a hand on his shoulder. "Wake up."

"No… no please, I don't know," he begged.

" _Hermes_ ," she tried again.

This time, his eyes flew open. He shot up from his bed, his wand instantly on his hand, as he fearfully scanned his room.

"It's all right," she soothingly called. "It's just me."

Once his eyes settled on her, the fear in his eyes melted into a combination of relief and embarrassment. "Iris?" he whispered.

"Yes," she replied with a relieved sigh. "You were having a nightmare."

Her eyes shifted on the shattered glass of water beside his bed. Hermes followed her line of vision and blushed. "I'm sorry I woke you up," he said, shakily running a hand through his damp curls. He whispered a soft ' _Reparo_ ' at the mess he had made.

Silence settled between the two of them. The Gryffindor tried to calm his breathing while Iris hid her shaking right hand. He was wearing a thin white shirt; his forearm was uncovered and under the dim light of his bedroom, she was able to perfectly see his 'Mudblood' scar.

Sensing her gaze, Hermes immediately covered his scar. "Go back to sleep, Iris," he softly said with a small smile.

She swallowed down her emotions as her eyes landed on her own Dark Mark. It was grey and almost fading nowadays, but it was still _there_ and Iris would do everything just to get rid of it.

"What… what did you dream about?" she asked.

He was silent for a beat, prompting her gaze to shift back to him. Hermes' gaze was transfixed on his uncovered scar once more. Even if he didn't voice it out, Iris somehow knew what his nightmare was tonight.

Her right hand shook violently and she tried, she _really_ tired, to stop its shaking. Visions of his torture, of Bellatrix Lestrange maniacally carving that horrible word on his forearm, of his screams and his eyes and his warmth all swam into vision and Iris found it hard to breathe. He may not know it, but among all the nightmares she was having during the war, his torture always jolted her awake at night with tremendous guilt and suffocating fear.

Oftentimes, in her nightmares, he never woke up from Bellatrix' torture.

To her surprise, he reached forward and held her hand. His hold was tight and secure, waiting until her shaking finally subsided.

"Are you all right?"

She released a low, hollow laugh. "You were the one who had a nightmare, Granger," she shakily pointed out, her grey eyes connecting with his worried ones. "I'm the one who's supposed to be asking that question."

Hermes' expression was indecipherable as he shifted forward until he could rest his forehead against her abdomen. Iris automatically placed her hand on top of his curls, her eyes fluttering close as she breathed in his scent. _'He's alive,'_ a voice whispered inside her head. _'He's alive and safe. He's alive.'_

"Forgive me." Her words were soft, almost breathed out like a silent prayer, and she wondered if he had ever heard her. A lone tear slipped down from her eye as she gazed down at his curls in remorse. She was sorry for all the things she had done to him in the past. She was sorry she didn't accept his help. She was sorry she hadn't done anything when he was tortured. She was sorry… she was sorry that she was selfishly trying to bask under his warmth and kindness when she didn't deserve them at all.

The Gryffindor slowly shifted his head to stare up at her. The corners of his eyes were wrinkled with a kind smile. "It wasn't your fault," he pointed out, but Iris was already shaking her head.

"No, _no_ , not just that, Granger," she confessed. "Everything." Her tear-filled eyes landed on his once more. " _Everything_."

His eyes glinted in the dark, surprised with her words. She watched as a myriad of emotions passed through his eyes – shades of black and brown until it was gold and bright like a sudden burst of sunlight. His warm gaze persistently pierced through her very soul, like a fire ablaze after a long, cold night with promises of safety and shelter.

Slowly, then he grasped her left forearm and lifted it against his lips. All the while, his brown eyes never broke from hers. Iris tried to pull away, tried to remove that vile tattoo pressed against his lips, knowing that something so evil and _wrong_ shouldn't taint someone as good and right like he was.

But Hermes kept her locked in place. "I forgive you," he whispered against her skin. "For everything."

Her heart swelled with too much emotions and she tried to make sense of it all. When Hermes looked back at her once more with a smile, all she could understand was that he made her feel pure and wanted.

"I love you," he whispered.

Iris' eyes widened and she almost backpedalled in shock, but Hermes kept his hold on her. His eyes were earnest and firm. It was as if he was speaking the _truth_ , and Iris, for the life of her, could not understand how such a radiant boy could love someone like _her_.

"You shouldn't," she softly replied. "I don't deserve it."

He gazed at her with such warmth and sorrow combined. Instead of words, he pulled her down until she was sitting on his lap, wrapped tightly around his arms, and kissed her until she believed that maybe, just maybe, she deserved to be loved after all.

"I love you," he murmured once more in between kisses, gently tilting her head so that he could kiss her more deeply.

Iris shivered in his embraced, desperately clinging to his thin shirt in return. He whispered the things in his heart as he trailed kisses up to her cheeks, brushing her tears away. He trailed kisses down to her chin and to her neck, leaving burning marks that never seemed to hurt.

"Iris," he whispered, tentatively pulling away from her. Her lower abdomen twitched deliciously at how his eyes almost looked like dark chocolate, pupils blown wide and deep. "I… I think." He paused, his gaze travelling down to her swollen lips. "I think it is best if you leave."

Conflicting emotions of lust and love clouded his eyes as he managed to quirk a small smirk. "I am well now," he explained. "I think I have enough _thoughts_ to keep me up tonight."

He gave her a meaningful glance and Merlin, _dear Merlin_ , how could she deny herself this time?

"Maybe tonight," she whispered in reply, already dipping her head to meet his lips halfway. "Maybe tonight you'd like some company?"

His dark eyes widened in surprise, but Iris had already covered his lips with her own.

* * *

Iris Malfoy was very, _very_ distracting.

The moment she came inside the Great Hall, Hermes couldn't keep his eyes off her. She was wearing a green sundress that ended just above her knees, clad with black heels which were horrifyingly pointy. Her hair was held away from her face by a silver headband. She looked far too dressed for a casual weekend, but then again, this was _Iris Malfoy_. She must always look impeccable, no matter the occasion.

Her grey eyes briefly met his, a small smirk on her face, as she slid on the bench beside Theodore Nott, exactly across from Hermes.

He still could not understand why they had to hide their relationship. Neville and the other Gryffindors were already asking why his presence in the Gryffindor Common Room was scarce. Thank Merlin he was Hermes Granger; if they told them he was too busy studying or finishing a homework, they'd accept it without a beat.

Except _Ginny_.

Ron's little sister always had a knack of noting even the smallest of things. She almost caught them once canoodling in a broom cupboard, but with Hermes' quick thinking and Iris' wand work, Ginny's attention was diverted.

Hermes knew it was only a matter of time before the whole of Hogwarts – the whole of Wizarding World, really – discovered that one-third of the Golden Trio was in fact very much in love with the Malfoy heiress. It would be a moot point hiding it consistently if Hermes could just show them by sitting beside her during classes and during meals.

But Iris was adamant. Something about his golden reputation, she reasoned. Something about their terrible past, she said. And every time he tried to bring up their relationship, she would just scowl and block him off. It was starting to get frustrating.

"Have you heard from Harry and Ron?" Ginny then asked, snapping him off from his reverie.

He glanced at the redhead and nodded. "Yeah," he said with a frown. "I heard Ron triggered a bloody booby trap and got himself sent to St. Mungo's for a day."

"He's an idiot," she said with a laugh.

Hermes rolled his eyes. "I worry for those blokes so much," grumbled, grabbing a piece of toast on one of the platters. "I kept them alive for _seven years_ and now that I'm not constantly with them, they're doing stupid things that can get them killed."

"Harry and Ron will manage," Neville piped in with a humored smile. "Blimey, it's been what? Months now?"

A part of him felt sorrowful that his best friends didn't seem to need him anymore. After all, Hermes Granger's sole purpose in life prior to Voldemort's defeat was to keep his friends safe and alive. Now that the dark lord was vanquished, they wanted to do different things.

Ginny bumped her shoulder against his. She gave him an understanding smile and said, "They really miss you, Hermes. Harry's been lamenting how he cannot get Granger's Hug of Warmth anytime he wanted but he's too embarrassed to tell you in his letters because he knew you'd call him a – "

" – wanker," Hermes said, smiling when Ginny said the same word at the same time.

"Exactly," she said with a laugh. She patted his back comfortingly, then proceeded to talk with the other Gryffindors about Quidditch.

Hermes sighed and quietly munched on his toast. His eyes unwittingly gravitated back to Iris again and watched as she laughed loudly over something Nott said. Her head was tossed back and her eyes were lit with happiness. Hermes' eyes widened, wondering when and how did Iris Malfoy suddenly become so… so _carefree_.

He glanced at the Slytherin table and saw her conversing with the other Slytherins. He had a brief flashback of the very first few days of their eighth year and remembered how she huddled almost near the Great Hall doors, with only Nott and Zabini to keep her company.

He secretly smiled when she absentmindedly tucked a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. She was lost in a conversation with Zabini, with Nott constantly butting in. The lanky Slytherin burst out into boisterous laughter and casually slung an arm across Iris' shoulders. He leaned his lips close to her ears and whispered something, prompting her to turn into a brilliant shade of red.

White, hot emotion he now understood was _jealously_ grew in his stomach. He never really thought much about Zabini and Nott, thinking that their friendship with the blonde was the same as his friendship with Harry and Ron. But sometimes, _sometimes_ Nott and Zabini would do something _unacceptable_ and jealousy would cease him whole.

"Blimey, Hermes!" Neville suddenly snapped.

Hermes tore his eyes away and quizzically looked at the Gryffindor in question, only realizing that the toast he was munching on a while ago was now reduced to crumbs.

Ginny was laughing and waved her wand to _'Scourgify'_ the mess he had made.

"Err… thanks," he said, feeling himself blush.

"Merlin, you were _murderous_ for a moment there," Ginny pointed out with an amused smile. "What's gotten your knickers in a twist?"

"Nothing," he immediately said with a disgruntled frown.

The youngest Weasley casually placed her chin on top of her open palm, her blue eyes never leaving his form. "Are you sure, Hermes?" she deliberately asked.

Hermes sighed and mentally cursed the distracting blonde sitting on the Slytherin table once more for forcing him to hide their relationship. "Nothing," he repeated, shoving his things inside his bag this time. He already lost his appetite and his hand was already itching to start his Herbology homework. "I'm going back to the Heads' dormitory to finish my homework."

"It's _Saturday_ ," Ginny protested.

"And?" Hermes asked with a quirked eyebrow.

The redhead merely sighed and waved him away. Hermes rolled his eyes and slung the strap of his bag across his shoulders.

He walked out of the Great Hall in haste; he was already planning his Saturday mentally, wanting to distract himself with schoolworks than a certain mesmerizing Slytherin blonde. Unbeknownst to him, silver eyes followed him out.

Hermes slinked inside the Heads' dormitory after muttering the password to the unicorn, and immediately plopped down on his makeshift study table beside the fireplace. He pulled out his Herbology textbooks and some other reference books and started to read through their homework.

Perhaps it was almost an hour when the portrait hole opened. Hermes poked his eyes above his book, distractedly watching as Iris sashayed towards him, a small smirk on her face. His eyes shifted at the creamy expanse of her legs and tried to swallow down the sudden lustful thoughts that creeped into his mind.

He sighed and buried his nose behind his Herbology textbook once more.

 _Bloody distracting_.

"Blimey, Granger, it's Saturday!" she claimed in exasperation. Iris slid down on the couch beside him and scooted closer.

"I have to finish my homework first," he dully claimed and shifted slightly away from her. His body was already reacting to her close proximity, unwittingly reminiscing specific, delightful activities they had engaged in last night on this particular couch. Behind his textbook, he scowled. _'Bloody Merlin, this is harder than I thought,'_ he whined.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked, poking a finger at his shoulder.

He frowned and glanced at her briefly. Iris was lightly glaring at him, her mouth also magnetized into a small frown. "Nothing," he clipped. "Perhaps you should go back to the Slytherin dormitories and bother _Nott_."

He might have spat his name venomously and he wasn't sure if Iris noticed.

To his disgruntlement, the blonde beside him snorted.

"Sweet Salazar, Granger, don't tell me you're _jealous_ ," she accused, a hint of amusement in the tone of her voice. "Of _Theo_ , of all people."

He reddened at her words and glared darkly at the texts, refusing to look at her.

Iris expelled a soft, disbelieving laugh when he did not reply.

Irritated by her nonchalance, he glared down at her. Her eyes were twinkling with mirth and her lips were now stretched into a wide grin. "Green doesn't suit you, Granger, just so you know," she claimed.

"He's _practically_ throwing himself all over you, Iris," he pointed out matter-of-factly, ignoring her prior comment. "I'm not entirely sure if his motives are bloody innocent."

She laughed once more and he firmly hid behind his book. Ugly jealousy surged through his veins once more and _blimey_ , he didn't want to feel this way anymore.

"Granger, just please stop reading and look at me," she claimed.

When he still refused to remove the book from his face, Iris gripped the book with both of her hands and successfully pulled it away. He still refused to look at her, knowing that his cheeks were too red.

"Theo's betrothed with Daphne Greengrass," she then explained. Confusion now appeared in his averted eyes. "Always has been. And he may look like a womanizing bastard, but he's a real gentleman. He _is_ actually fond of Greengrass even though I loudly disapprove of that airy bint. He said… he said she was actually the only one who treated him like he was worthy to be loved. How could he not love someone like her in return?"

Her voice had softened by then and Hermes found his eyes shifting back at her. A small smile grew on her lips when she met his eyes. "And in case you are wondering, Blaise isn't vying for my affection either, you git," she continued. Hermes' cheeks reddened once more. "Well, we did _try_ back in fifth year, but it almost felt _incestuous_." She lightly shivered as her eyes glazed over, perhaps reminiscing her relationship with the Italian before. "He treats me like a younger sister."

A small smirk graced her lips as she leaned closer to him. "So, besides you, Granger, I am not fucking anybody," she nonchalantly said.

He was both scandalized and aroused with her use of words. She quirked an eyebrow at his reaction.

"Any more questions?" she slyly asked.

"Well, yes," he sputtered out, nervously rubbing his neck. When she merely looked at him in question, he sighed and continued, "You're not… you're not promised to another, are you?"

Iris snorted once more. " _Please_ , my father tried so hard to arrange a strategic marriage for me," she replied. "As the Malfoy heiress, one of my sole duties is to marry a rich Pureblood and bear an heir. For Pureblood women like me, marriage is, and will always be, an economic proposition."

He frowned. "That's so… so…"

"Outdated?" she offered. "Well, welcome to a Pureblood's life, Granger." Her eyes turned steely as she shifted her body so that she could fully face him. "But, to answer your question, I'm not betrothed. My father tried to marry me off after the war, said I needed to be taken care of as his only wish before he gets imprisoned in Azkaban for a lifetime, but my mother…" She trailed off, a small, fond smile blooming on her face. "My mother thinks the decision of choosing whom I will spend the rest of my days with should rest on _me_."

Brown met grey as Hermes felt his heart lodging in his throat. Her eyes were bright and glinting as she reached out to place a hand against his cheek. "Are you done quizzing me about my love life, Granger?" she huskily asked, the corner of her lips tugging once more for a small smirk. "Because, I really want to kiss you right now."

For his answer, his lips crashed against hers for a breathtaking kiss.

She chuckled against his lips and wound her arms around his neck. Hermes pulled her closer until she was sitting on his lap. Her dress was impossibly short, now hitching up to her thighs with her position. Iris softly mewled when he nipped a sensitive spot on her bottom lip.

His hand climbed on her thigh and caressed her soft skin. Gooseflesh erupted on her skin as her kisses turned hungrier. Hermes' pants tightened at her response, wanting to feel more of her skin against his hand. He started trailing kisses down her neck, hastily removing one strap of her dress to cover every inch of her exposed skin.

"Hermes," she breathed and his hold on her tightened. "Please."

He briefly pulled away to stare back at her face. Her pupils were dilated with want and affection and he reached forward to brush her hair away from her face. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, leaning forward to capture her lips for another kiss.

He shifted them both until she was lying on her back with him on top of her. He braced his arms against her head and leaned down once more, his kisses now mingled with urgency and such ferociousness. Iris perfectly matched his fervor, one of her hand already sneaking underneath his shirt to leave burning trails at its wake.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Hermes gasped in surprise and toppled off Iris. He landed painfully on the carpeted floor and managed to bump his head against the coffee table. He swore under his breath and groaned, lifting his head slowly to glare at the sudden intruders.

With widened eyes, he managed to see Nott and Zabini, who were both equally stunned in silence.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Iris shot out. Hermes' darted his eyes at her and watched as she smoothed her dress down and fixed her hair. Her eyes spit fire but her cheeks were still flushed from their excursion and her embarrassment.

"What the _hell_ were you doing?" Zabini snapped out, prompting Hermes' eyes to land back at him.

The Italian's face slowly clouded in fury as Hermes slowly stood up from the floor. Iris assured him that Zabini only had platonic feelings for her, but Hermes wasn't quite sure about that now.

Panic rose in his stomach. He darted another glance at the blonde, who was no sitting on the couch, and noted that she was more annoyed than panicked. She crossed her arms against her chest, her action perking up her breasts a little, prompting his mouth to run dry.

' _Not the time, Granger,'_ he said, forcing to shift his gaze away from the other Slytherins in the common room. He briefly wondered how the hell they knew about their password, but then realized that Iris might have told them in passing.

Hermes suddenly felt outnumbered, wishing at this moment that at least Harry and Ron were with him.

"We thought it was mighty suspicious how you quickly excused yourself from breakfast just to return to your common room," Theo said with a quirked eyebrow. "After I told you how Granger somehow couldn't keep his eyes off you, you immediately scrambled away."

Hermes' blushed in embarrassment, now understanding what Nott whispered to Iris that made her blush so brilliantly a while ago.

Then, Zabini furiously turned towards his lanky companion and snarled a loud "Fuck you, Nott!" Curiously, a huge grin broke out from Nott's face and showed his upturned palm at the Italian. He gestured a brief 'gimme', which elicited a loud groan from his companion. Zabini gruffly pulled out a heavy coin pouch from his pocket and deposited it on Nott's awaiting hand.

Beside him, Iris released a deep sigh. "I knew you were betting behind my back, _idiots_ ," she said, shaking her head as the corner of her lips twitched in amusement.

Only Hermes seemed aghast with the turn of events.

"Hey, you've been ditching us for _days_ , princess, claiming that you have to study," Theo pointed out with a gleeful glint in his eyes. He shook the bag and grinned once more with the sound it made. _Merlin_ , Hermes guessed the amount was bigger than his pocket money for the whole school year. "We've always known you were a closeted swot so we didn't really think much about it. It wasn't suspicious too when you always reasoned out you're going to study here because you've always been allergic to the library."

Theo then shifted his gaze on Hermes and smirked. " _But_ ," he started, "when Golden Boy here stopped studying in the library… now, that's bloody suspicious." His smirk turned into a grin when he looked back at Iris. "So, I've placed two and two together and concluded that you're probably fucking each other."

Hermes turned into a brilliant shade of red.

"So, tell me, princess," Theo drawled with a wicked grin. "How does it feel to finally be beneath a Muggle-born?"

"Shut up, Theo!" Iris exclaimed while Hermes' jaw dropped in abject horror at his insinuation. It even left his notice how the lanky Slytherin chose not to call him a 'mudblood'.

Hermes couldn't look at Iris due to his humongous embarrassment and opted to stare at the silently fuming Italian. To his surprise, Blaise was darkly glaring at him.

"I honestly thought you were studying here, Granger," Zabini snarled. "I'm bloody _disappointed_. I lost galleons because of _you_!" He scowled when Theo started to snicker. "I didn't take you as someone who'd easily be swayed by Malfoy's looks."

The Gryffindor, still too speechless to retort something in return, merely frowned at his accusation. His eyes hesitantly settled on Iris, who now wore a proud smirk on her face. "Even bookworms can't resist me," she lightly said, prompting Zabini to roll his eyes.

"Why aren't you – " Hermes' eyes widened, suddenly finding himself unable to properly breathe. "Were you also in this… this _bet_?"

The smirk on her face fell as sheer panic painted her pretty face. Iris immediately swivel her head around and before she could try to reply, Zabini already beat her to it.

"Calm the fuck down, Granger," the Italian drawled. "Whatever is happening behind closed doors between you two is _genuine_."

Breathing soon returned to him, his eyes still questioningly looking at the blonde that captivated his heart. Her eyes softened as she gave a small nod, confirming Blaise's words.

"Okay," he said with a shaky smile. She met his smile with an equally fond one.

"Merlin Almighty, this is bloody sickening," Theo whined, trudging closer to Hermes. The Gryffindor stiffened under his scrutinizing gaze. Theo circled around and looked at him from head to toe. He glanced at Iris, but she merely shrugged, amusement in her eyes.

Then, to his utter surprise, the lanky Slytherin wrapped his arms around Hermes' torso and snuggled against his neck. Theo released a humongous gasp and quickly tore away from him to glance over Blaise. "Bloody hell, mate, Granger's Hug of Warmth wasn't a myth at all!" he exclaimed. Then, to Hermes, he demanded, "Wrap your arms around me, idiot!"

"Theo…" Iris snarled, but the lanky Slytherin yanked Hermes' arms until they were wrapped loosely around him.

"Heaven help me, I think I'm going to melt," Theo declared with a soft, contented sigh.

Blaise quickly strode forward and yanked a protesting Theo away, just to replace him and wrap his arms around Hermes. The Italian stilled for a moment before glancing at Hermes like he had never seen him before. "Bloody hell," was all he managed to say.

"You gits, back off!" Iris snapped, pulling Blaise away. Theo was laughing loudly at Hermes' expense, whose cheeks had now turned into a brilliant shade of red.

"All right, all right," Blaise said with a small smile, raising his hands and took a few steps back.

Before he could compose himself, Iris wrapped her arms around him, turned towards her friends and declared with a little glare on her face, " _Mine_."

Hermes' eyes widened as Blaise rolled his eyes and Theo snorted.

"Of course, the princess always gets what she wants," Theo said with a laugh, shaking his head lightly.

The Gryffindor blinked and stared down at Iris' head. She was throwing snarky remarks at her friends that made Theo boisterously laugh and Blaise smirk. Her eyes were bright with amusement and happiness and he, the sap he was, thought she had never looked beautiful.

His arms snaked around her waist and pulled her close, placing his chin on top of her head like how he always did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, "Library Rendezvous" fits in this chapter. Go check it out if you still haven't! 
> 
> Next chapter will be the last! Please do watch out for my next update :)


	11. Eighth Year: Part IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, you've reached the last chapter! Enjoy!

_I just want to love you, to love you, to love you well  
_ _I just want to learn how, somehow, to be loved myself_

\- Two by Sleeping at Last

* * *

"You're not thinking this through, Granger."

Hermes expelled an exasperated sigh and lightly glared at the blonde. "I'm going to do this and you're not going to stop me," he pointed out. He was nervous beyond belief for today and this infuriating Slytherin wasn't helping at all. He thought he'd already made himself clear last night that he was going to push through with his agenda today and no amount of distractions from his girlfriend, albeit _delightful_ they may be, would hinder him from doing so.

He glanced at the flickering torches illuminating the deserted corridor in Hogwarts. It was Hogsmeade day today and as much as he'd like to bring her out and spend time with her outside the confines of their lovely common room, Iris once again loudly reminded him that their relationship was a _secret_. Hence, Hermes knew he should take this opportunity to finally do the only thing he'd been itching to do ever since he fell in love with the blonde.

Iris rolled her eyes and crossed her arms against her chest. "I told you I don't want other people knowing about our… _relationship_ ," she murmured, averting her eyes away from his honey-colored eyes.

"But this is Harry and Ron," he protested. "They're my best friends and I think it's finally time for them to know that you've inadvertently managed to capture my heart, you exasperating witch."

"They're wankers," she muttered, her cheeks reddening at his words.

"I know," he said with a laugh. "I've been best friends with them for _eight_ bloody years. Besides, Zabini and Nott already know. At least let me tell my best friends, too."

Iris shot him an annoyed look. "They're going to go ballistic," she snarled. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

"Yeah, well, I'm already immune with their stupid moods," he said with a nervous smile. "I think I'm going to manage."

The Slytherin worried her bottom lip in annoyance, managing to drag his eyes briefly at her painted lips. _Merlin_ , she looked lovely today. Her hair was held in a high ponytail. Clad with a cashmere, emerald sweater which he was sure costed a fortune and a black, short skirt, Hermes sometimes wondered how someone like her would be attracted to _him_.

"Don't you dare follow me," he warned after shaking off the sudden haze from his mind. Iris tried to interject, but he continued, "I mean it, Iris. For this to go on smoothly, I have to do this _alone_."

"Fine," she snapped with a hard glare. "I'll be spending this day with Blaise and Zabini, constantly thinking that my boyfriend is an idiot."

Hermes smiled at how she addressed him and briefly pulled her close. He dropped three kisses on a particularly sensitive spot on her neck he knew made her a tad wobbly, before finally pulling away. Iris' cheeks were a deep shade of red but there was still a frown on her face. Hermes grinned and bestowed a brief kiss on her lips.

"Don't worry too much, Iris," he whispered.

"Who said I'm worried?" she snapped back, the snark in her tone noticeably absent due to his previous kisses.

He chuckled under his breath and allowed himself to steal another kiss from the exasperating witch before finally striding out of Hogwarts.

Hogsmeade was swarming with excited students and for a moment, Hermes stilled. He remembered its sad state during the height of the Wizarding War and it was refreshing to see the village bursting with life. He greeted those he'd recognized and quickly scanned the whole crowd to see a familiar platinum blonde hair.

Relieved that Iris actually listened to him, Hermes finally entered the Three Broomsticks and looked around.

"Over here!"

Hermes beamed when he spotted Harry and Ron cramped in one of the private booths at the very back of the shop. Harry was excitedly waving his arm and Hermes didn't hesitate in zooming past the other tables until he was hugging his best friends.

"Hello, wankers," Hermes greeted. He released a mock gasp as he beheld his best friends and clenched both of their arms. "Are those… are those _muscles_?"

"Git," Ron laughed, hitting him playfully on his shoulder. He slid inside the booth beside Harry and boyishly grinned at the eighth year. "Training's been wearing as down so naturally we gain these _babies_." He comically flexed his biceps, prompting Harry to gag and Hermes to guffaw boisterously.

"So, how's our favorite swot?" Harry asked. "Gin's been telling me you're buried in books _everyday_. Didn't we tell you to get a life, you wanker?"

"NEWTs are just around the corner so naturally, I have to study," he said with a roll of his eyes. "We've been friends for eight years and you still question why I'm like this?"

Harry sighed and shook his head. "I feared you're going to lose your adventurous streak just because we're not with you anymore," he gravelly said.

Hermes then proceeded to ask about their new lives as aurors. Ron recounted a particular mission regarding a cursed doll and the booby trap that sent him to the hospital. Harry would interject once in a while and Hermes smiled, contented to listen to their animated storytelling.

Briefly, a flashback of the good ol' days with his best friends crossed his mind. It was wonderful spending some time with Harry and Ron once more. He realized he really did miss them both and Hogwarts wasn't the same without them.

"So…" Harry said, breaking the silence that befell after Ron's anecdote. "Why did you really invite us over for Hogsmeade Day, Hermes?"

The nervousness he had had been feeling since this morning came back full force. "What?" he lightly lied with a small, nervous smile. "Isn't missing you reason enough?"

The-Boy-Who-Lived quirked an eyebrow and exchanged glances with Ron. "So, something's definitely wrong," the bespectacled man said with a reverent nod.

"Perhaps a girl?" the redhead offered with a playful glint in his eyes.

Harry pulled out his wand and muttered a soft _'Finite Incantatem'_ at the stunned brunet. "Not under a spell and such," Harry confirmed. "Definitely a girl." Harry slightly leaned towards the silent Gryffindor, a silent challenge in his eyes. " _Or_ , you're going to pull out that 'thinking of a Potions project' crap once more, Hermes?"

He knew it! Harry didn't buy his excuse one time during their sixth year. A wry smile appeared on Hermes' face in spite of himself. Harry could be awfully sharp and he lamented all those years wasted from studying all because he was the bloody hero of the Wizarding World. Maybe, Harry could actually manage to climb at the top of their class with that perceptive brain of his.

"Blimey," Ron breathed out when Hermes' hadn't retorted anything in return. His blue eyes widened in shock as he swiveled back at Harry. "There's a _fucking_ girl."

A triumphant grin spread on Harry's face when Hermes turned into a magnificent shade of red. He nervously rubbed the nape of his neck and shifted his eyes away from their eager glances.

"Well…" he started. Hermes tried to rack his brain how to reveal to his best friends he'd been dating Iris Malfoy for a few months now. "There _is_ a girl."

Harry looked incredibly proud and Ron started wiping away invisible tears from his eyes. "We've done it this time, Harry," the redhead sighed melodramatically. "Our Hermes is finally a grown up!"

"Quit it, you gits!" he hissed, but he was unable to stop the twitching of his lips.

"Is it someone we know?" Harry eagerly asked. "A Gryffindor? _Or_ , a Ravenclaw perhaps."

"A Ravenclaw," Ron nodded in concurrence. "Most likely a Ravenclaw. I can already imagine their study dates in the library." The redhead made a face. "How can you call _that_ a date, anyway?" Hermes rolled his eyes, but Ron continued, "As long as she's not a Slytherin, mate, then we're all good."

"You still believe in that House rivalry crap?" Hermes asked none-too-quickly.

Ron looked at him funny. " _Of course_ , we're Gryffindors through and through," he said, puffing out his chest in pride. "We've spent our entire childhood beating the crap out of the other Houses, Hermes. You shouldn't be surprised if it'd be hard to shake off your House beliefs after graduation."

"But we've been through w _ar_ ," the Gryffindor insisted through gritted teeth. "Houses are a loads of codswallop. It's like the issue with blood statuses."

Ron knitted his eyebrows. "Blimey, why are you getting all worked up suddenly?" he said, starting to frown. "It's just – "

"She's a Slytherin, isn't she?" Harry butted in, his emerald eyes piercing straight into Hermes' eyes.

The redhead snorted. "As if Hermes is going to _fraternize_ with the enemy," he guffawed, snickering under his breath. When Hermes merely pierced him with a stern glare, his jaw dropped. "What the bloody _fuck_? A _Slytherin_ , Hermes? Really?"

Hermes' head started to throb as he continued to frown at Ron. He knew Ron would be more difficult to appease than Harry, but it still irritated him immensely how he still acted immaturely, what with his prejudices and such.

"It doesn't matter," Harry quickly said, seeing the thunderous expression on Hermes' face. The brunet's eyes landed on him, surprised with his claim, and slightly grew mollified. Harry shot a quick glare at Ron, who was about to open his stupid trap once more, and added, "It _doesn't_ matter, Ron. Give the bloke some slack." Harry gave him an encouraging smile. "At least his head isn't filled with books and bloody homeworks once more. I'm starting to worry I'd be groomsman to your future wedding with a fucking book, Hermes."

The curly-haired Gryffindor gave him a bemused look. "Where the hell did you get that idea?" he asked, his initial irritation with Ron finally dissipating. Thank the bloody gods for Harry Potter.

"It isn't too far-fetched, Hermes, admit it," Harry said with a humored laugh.

Hermes rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smile gratefully at Harry.

" _Fine_ , date a Slytherin or whatever," Ron finally said with a disgruntled sigh. "Just as long she's not some snooty, rich, Pureblood bigot like Malfoy, then I'm going to tolerate whomever this girl is just for your sake."

Hermes' cheeks reddened upon the mention of the Slytherin. Silence met his claim, which Hermes knew Ron offhandedly remarked as a joke. He really tried his hardest to retort something in return, but found himself speechless all of a sudden.

" _Bloody fucking hell_ ," Ron cried quite shrilly. "Don't you _fucking_ dare tell us you're dating a snooty, rich, Pureblood bigot, Hermes because I'm going to _off_ you."

Anger surged in his veins as his hands closed into tight fists. "Bloody hell, Ronald, you're not my mother," he spat back.

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed, turning to the suddenly quiet bespectacled man beside him. "Talk some sense into this git!" Harry continued to stay quiet, and Ron had no choice but to swivel back at Hermes, his blue eyes spitting fire. " _Why_ , Hermes? Of all the bloody girls in this school, you have to choose someone like her? You're canoodling with Dark Arts supporters! They've made your life miserable! They've tried to _ruin_ you. How could you just… you just…"

"It's Malfoy, isn't it?"

Harry's eyes were piercing intensely and try as he might, Hermes couldn't look away from him. Beside Harry, Ron had grown deathly pale when Hermes still hadn't answered.

"Ginny wrote me _things_ ," Harry continued, his voice too low and strained. "She told me how she speculated that perhaps you…" The-Boy-Who-Lived paled, but his gaze didn't waver. "She saw how you look at each other and it drove her mad how she was the only one who could see it. I didn't believe it, of course, because I thought… I thought…" Harry released a sigh and frowned. "Apparently, I thought wrong."

Hermes was at a loss on how to respond to that. He knew Ginny was suspicious, but he didn't realize she was already speculating something between him and Iris. In spite of himself, he wryly smiled. _Merlin_ , Ginny and Harry had scarily similar personalities.

"You've got to be kidding me?" Ron snarled, his face now turning purple. "Of all bloody _people_ …"

"Are you sure about this, Hermes?" Harry asked, surprisingly worried as opposed to the furious bomb sitting beside him. "I mean, it's _Malfoy_ , for Merlin's sake. She'd been extra harsh at you because of your blood status. You were… bloody fucking hell, Hermes, you were tortured in her _own_ home. How can you…"

Harry swallowed down his ire and Hermes appreciated that he was at least trying to be levelheaded and understanding.

"Since when?" Harry quietly continued, looking suddenly exhausted.

"After the Yule Ball."

Ron gasped. "Months?!" he thundered.

"Well… maybe sixth year," he corrected with a small frown. "But it was complicated then."

"YEARS?!" Ron hollered, this time louder.

Hermes shot him an annoyed look and wouldn't be surprised if the whole Three Broomsticks heard his shout. "We've gotten to know each other, all right," he snapped. "We're sharing a bloody dormitory. It was… it was inevitable." He stared hard at the table and tried to come up with a decent reason. "Just like the rest of us, she'd also been a victim during the war."

"Yeah right," Ron snorted, prompting Hermes to glare at him.

"It is _true_ ," he grounded out. "Imagine this, Ronald. If you grew up with Lucius Malfoy and he drilled inside your head that you must be perfect, that you must hate mudbloods" - Harry and Ron flinched at the derogatory word - "that you must follow his footsteps as Voldemort's crony, tell me honestly, Ron, and don't you fucking stutter: do you think you will not turn out atrocious?"

Ron was reduced into silence, his mouth ajar as he stared back at Hermes.

"She'd been wicked, I know," Hermes snarled, his eyes now resting on Harry. He was wearing an indecipherable look in his eyes and Hermes wasn't sure if it was a good sign. "In second year, she believed that Muggle-borns like me _stole_ magic from Purebloods like her. And I hated it, I hated _everything_ she spouted because she was wrong and she was a bigot and I wanted to prove to her that everything she believed in was stupid and untrue. But after her father was incarcerated, after she unwillingly received her Dark Mark, after I saw her breakdown in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom…" He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I realized that she was just a child, like all of us, and she might have been on the wrong side of the war because she had _no choice_."

He was breathing heavily by the end of his tirade and normally, he would have laughed at the ridiculous looks on their faces. It wasn't everyday Hermes was able to reduce his best friends speechless. Ron never seemed to shut up with the most inane things and Harry wasn't easily fazed too.

"Everybody has a choice, Hermes," Harry murmured.

A small, wry smile appeared on Hermes' face. "I believed so, too," he said with a small nod. "But will you choose the right way, no matter how desperate you were to finally leave all the atrocious things behind, if you know a madman has his wand pressed against your mother's back, seconds from an _Avada_?"

Harry merely stared, his answer already speaking volumes.

"But… but…" Ron sputtered out, looking marvelously confused himself. "It's _Malfoy_ , Hermes." He ran a frustrated hand through his red hair and glowered. "I can't believe just because she batted her eyelashes your way, you've started thinking with your fucking _cock_. I mean, you are supposed to be the brightest wizard of our age and – "

"Merlin Almighty, Weasley, can you just bloody shut up?"

The Golden Trio's eyes comically widened. Hermes looked around for Iris, then finally saw her blonde head peeking from behind the booth they were sitting on.

"What are you doing here?" Hermes cried, unsure why Iris' cheeks were red and her grey eyes were strangely glistening too brightly. He frowned. "I told you not to follow me!"

"Since when do I listen to you, Granger?" she said with an eye roll, sliding away from the booth she was currently sitting on to sashay towards him. Hermes unwittingly scooted closer to the window as she slid down beside him. Iris was still determinedly not looking at him.

"I have everything handled," he murmured under his breath.

"I know that," she snapped, briefly glaring at him. "But I don't trust these two idiots." She threw daggers at Harry and Ron – the former, bewildered with her sudden appearance, and the latter, slowly turning red from silent fury.

"Iris…" Hermes warned, reaching for her hand to keep her in place, but it was then when he noticed her right hand was shaking. He peered at her face worriedly, but Iris wore a mask of indifference that was typically her. Slowly frowning, he had an inkling as to what had shaken her. "Since when were you eavesdropping?"

Her eyes shone briefly before she slowly looked at him. "Since the beginning," was her curt reply.

The curly-haired brunet slumped and ran a hand through his hair. "You heard everything," he pointed out.

"Charming to know you'll defend my honor until your very last breath, Granger," she remarked with a small smirk. But Hermes had been with her for months to know she was masking her emotions with snark.

His cheeks colored as he remembered the words he had spat a while ago. He reached for her shaking hand under the table and held on tight. He took a shaky breath when her grip was equally stronger. Her eyes were gleaming once more and there was this small quiver on her bottom lip. His words must have shaken her so much and Hermes felt his heart lodge to his throat.

If he would spend his entire life fighting for Iris Malfoy's second chance to the whole Wizarding World, then so be it.

_So be it._

Smiling gently, he reached forward and tucked an errant strand behind her ear. "Stubborn witch," he murmured, prompting her to lightly glare at his direction.

" _Fucking hell_ ," Ron breathed out after snapping off from his stupor. "Hermes got it bad."

His cheeks grew hotter as he threw a glare at Ron's direction. The redhead's face now had a sickly green sheen, blue eyes comically widened as he stared back at Iris. Harry, however, had a small, strained frown on his face.

Hermes expelled an exasperated sigh and opened his mouth, ready to continue his tirade, but to his surprise, Iris pulled away from him and rounded back at the stunned blokes. Her eyes were serious, a scowl on her face, as her grey eyes swept from The-Boy-Who-Lived and the Weasley.

"Listen here and listen _bloody_ well," she enunciated, making a point by poking her finger on the wooden table. "I know there is too much history between us and I don't _care_ if you will like me or not." She sneered when Ron scowled. "I don't care one whit if you accept me. I don't need your approval. But, for the love of all good things and holy, if you start to cut Granger off your life for his life choices, then you are making a _grave mistake_." She narrowed her eyes. "Think about everything he had done for you idiots. _Really_ , really hard. Don't let this… this whatever this is between us ruin the friendship you've forged that is _bloody_ colossal, not even a war and a Dark Lord could break it."

Ron ogled at Iris as if he'd never seen her before. Even Harry's jaw slackened with her passionate speech.

And Hermes… Hermes forgot how to properly breathe.

He wasn't entirely sure if his mind and heart were merely playing tricks at him at that very moment, but sun rays seemed to stream through the window and hit her at just the right angle, illuminating her stunning face for him to admire. Her eyes were burning bright with a passion he never thought she could possess and her lips were pressed into a firm line.

She was radiant and he couldn't look away.

Harry's emerald eyes landed on him and there was reluctant admiration in them. Hermes beamed in return.

"Fucking hell this is really happening," Ron groaned, hesitantly shifting his gaze away from Iris' piercing eyes to lightly glare at Hermes. "This is what happens when we're not with you 24/7."

Hermes merely quirked an eyebrow when Ron sighed and glared once more at Iris. " _Fine_ ," he begrudgingly accepted. "But if you start snogging right in front of me, I'm going to _Avada_ myself."

Iris' eyes glinted dangerously. "Really?" she asked as an amused smirk grew on her face. Without warning, she turned around and hooked an arm around Hermes' neck. She neared her face, that sly smirk still in place.

Hermes laughingly pulled away. "Iris," he wheezed. "Have mercy."

Ron looked positively green.

The brunet's eyes then landed on the raven-haired boy beside Ron, askance. "Harry?" he mumbled with bated breath.

Harry rolled his eyes, then massaged the bridge of his nose. "If it makes you happy, then do I really have a choice?" he asked with a resigned sigh. He threw a light glare at his direction. "Now, I bloody owe Ginny 10 galleons."

" _What_?" Hermes exclaimed. Iris beside him snorted in amusement.

"She bet 10 galleons that something's going on between you two," Harry said with a nonchalant shrug.

The Gryffindor groaned, remembering how Nott and Zabini had done the same. " _Merlin_ , are there any more bets on our bloody relationship?" he murmured to the blonde, who merely smirked and silently held his hand under the table.

A sneaky smile appeared on Harry's face when Ron started to turn red up to the tips of his ears. "This wanker owes me _40_ galleons, though," The-Boy-Who-Lived confessed with an unabashed grin. "I bet him 40 galleons the reason why you suddenly owled us to meet you was because you're going to introduce us your new girlfriend." He smirked when Hermes' cheeks reddened. "Idiot Ron believed it's only because you missed us and wanted to see us."

"That's not entirely wrong either," Hermes pointed out with a grin.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Merlin, NEWTs are coming and you have no time to chummy around with your best friends," he stated matter-of-factly. "So, _logically_ , either you've found a girl or you discovered the rise of another dark lord. The latter's bloody preposterous, hence, the former."

"Astute conclusion, Potter," Iris snarled with an amused smirk.

Harry shrugged nonchalantly once more and threw her a smirk of his own.

Conversations after that flowed smoothly. Hermes found it amusing how Iris easily joined any topic they were discussing; perhaps, her Pureblood upbringing trained her with carrying a conversation for politeness' sake. It relieved him immensely how insults were at a minimum, glares were decreased, and hesitant amusement were exchanged. It was a bizarre sight, but Hermes couldn't complain.

They called it a day when the last sun rays disappeared from the horizon. Harry and Ron were still in the middle of a discussion about the latest Quidditch stats as they strode out of the Three Broomsticks. Hermes and Iris weren't too far behind.

Although the amount of people in Hogsmeade had already dwindled, Hermes still wasn't sure if Iris would allow him to hold her hand in public. He compromised by merely placing a hand at the small of her back, silently guiding her until they reached the apparation spot.

Harry and Ron's conversation ended as they awkwardly turned to the other two. Ron's cheeks were bright pink and he avoided Iris' eyes.

"Well, this is our spot," the redhead mumbled, prompting Hermes to roll his eyes.

"Goodbye, wanker," Harry grinned. "And please, for the love of Merlin, _please_ just write us a bloody letter. Ginny writes about you more than you ever write to us."

Hermes sighed and nodded. "All right, all right," he said with a wide grin.

His eyes widened when Iris suddenly stepped forward and thrusted her hand. Harry gaped at her proffered hand and then back at her steely, determined eyes.

For a brief moment, Hermes was brought back to their first year, watching as eleven-year-old Harry Potter snubbed eleven-year-old Iris Malfoy. Sometimes, he still wondered what would have happened if Harry had just shaken Iris' hand.

"Since I think we will be seeing more of each other in the future, I think we should call a truce," Iris silkily announced. Hermes hid a small smile, knowing how she was desperately trying to hide the nervousness she was currently feeling.

When Harry still gaped at her hand, Iris sighed and shook her hand slightly. "For Hermes," she determinedly added.

Harry blinked thrice and briefly looked over at his best friend. Then, a small smile appeared on Harry's face before finally clutching Iris' hand and giving it a firm shake. Iris' eyes widened in surprise, clearly not expecting for Harry to cave in.

"For Hermes," Harry firmly replied.

Hermes beamed so wide his cheeks were starting to hurt.

Iris retrieved her hand and glanced at Ron. "Do you want to shake hands too, Weasley?" she asked with a grimace.

"Please don't," Ron groaned, looking green.

The Slytherin expelled a sigh of relief and strode back beside Hermes.

"Well, good bye," the curly-haired Gryffindor said, still with the huge smile on his face. He felt a little overwhelmed with everything that had happened today but it turned out _better_ than he expected. He stepped forward and swung both of his arms over Harry's and Ron's, bringing them closer to himself.

"Don't do anything stupid," he lightly warned. Harry snickered while Ron groaned.

"Don't _do_ anything stupid," Ron shot back. "But too late now because you're bloody dating – OW!"

"You never really know when to shut up, Ronald," Hermes said with a roll of his eyes. He tightened his grip around their necks, prompting them to release identical pained groans. His eyes softened as he glanced down at their heads. "Thank you."

"We better leave because Hermes' being all sappy again," Harry whined, successfully extricating himself away from Hermes' death grip.

"Get off me, wanker," Ron exclaimed, pushing Hermes away until he could free his head. He massaged his smarting neck and glared at him. "Let's go, Harry."

Hermes glanced at both of his best friends, a certain glint in his eyes. "You know, for the record, I'd still do whatever I want even though you don't approve of it," he confessed, waiting for an outburst, but Harry and Ron surprised him when they gave him genuine smiles.

"Once you get that look on your face - " Harry started

" – there's no changing your mind," Ron finished. The redhead sighed. "We've known you for years, Hermes. We know that _you_ never listen to us, even though you've made it your life's purpose to make sure that _we_ listen to you."

"We trust your judgment more than anyone, Hermes," the bespectacled auror continued. "If you think this is worthy of your time, if you think you will never regret this, then we really have no choice but to be supportive now, yeah?"

He was very much aware of the pair of grey eyes that bore holes at the back of his head. "Worthy of my time," he ticked, lifting a finger with a grin. "Never regretting this." He lifted another finger and grinned. Ron and Harry then gave him identical smiles and for a moment, Hermes felt like they were eleven-years-old again, the Golden Trio wreaking havoc all over Hogwarts and leaving exasperating disruptions at their wake.

If there was another thing worthy of his time and he never regretted, it would be befriending these two idiots.

The bespectacled boy then glanced at the silent Slytherin behind him. "Take care of him, Malfoy," he seriously said, his green eyes now glinting in the dark.

"Make sure he eats thrice a day," Ron added with a solemn nod.

"And don't let him spend too much time in the library."

"Always refill his toffee stash. He gets awfully cranky without those sweets."

"Don't let him raise his hand too eagerly in class."

"Don't let him color code your NEWTs notes!"

Hermes' cheeks burned as he pushed Harry and Ron away. "Just go, you gits," he snarled.

To his surprise, soft laughter filled the night. He craned his neck and saw Iris with a pretty smile on her face. The corner of her eyes crinkled with amusement and her cheeks were flushed from the cold and something more. Her hair now freely tumbled down to her shoulders, her hair tie long abandoned after leaving the warmth of the Three Broomsticks.

The wind lifted her hair and danced behind her head and Hermes still couldn't get used to seeing her this happy and open.

Like she was free.

Merlin, she was so beautiful.

Hermes turned back at his friends and found them unabashedly staring at Iris with gaping mouths. He looked confused at their stunned expression, but then realized it must have been their first time seeing her so openly carefree and smiling.

"Did Malfoy just - " Ron turned to Harry with wide eyes.

"Yeah, I think she did, mate," Harry said, shaking his head in disbelief.

Ron groaned and hid his face behind his hands. "This day is so weird," he said, then dragged Harry and apparated away.

Iris glanced at him once his best friends were gone. "I guess it went well," she said, the smile still on her face.

He nodded his head and went back to her side, his hand once again landing at the small of her back. "You did good today, Iris," he said with mock approval.

She rolled her eyes but the smile never left her face. "We should go back," she said.

"Yes, we still need to start studying for Potions NEWTs tonight," Hermes concurred.

"Granger," she protested, "it's a weekend! And a Hogsmeade weekend at that!"

"And?"

"Bloody swot," she mumbled, absentmindedly reaching for his hand and lacing her fingers through his.

His heart jumped to his throat and grinned, leading her back to Hogwarts.

* * *

She knew it was silly, but Iris always felt ridiculously nervous before a Quidditch match.

Already clad in her Slytherin Quidditch robe, she tucked herself behind the lockers in their changing room, trying to calm her breathing before the match started. A blonde strand obscured her eyes and, irritated, she brandished out her wand and spelled her hair away from her face, a French braid now holding it away.

Iris worried her bottom lip and slumped forward, tightly clutching her beloved broomstick. It was the final game, after all. Harper Fawley, the Slytherin Quidditch Captain, had been hounding on and on about the importance of this match for _days_ , and Iris was already tuning him out. His annoying pep talk didn't help her nerves at all.

Madame Hooch's whistle then blared from outside the pitch and Iris immediately shot up from her seat. She took a deep, shuddering breath, before placing a confident smirk on her face. She strode out of the locker and saw a pale Fawley, his grip with his broomstick comically tight.

He rounded at them, eyes wide and crazed. "Don't you _fuck_ this up!" he hissed, then swiveled around and stomped out of their locker room.

Iris rolled her eyes and brought out the rear. Raucous cheers resounded in the whole pitch and in spite of her nervousness, the smirk on her face grew with excitement.

The Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain shook hands with Fawley, his eyes equally crazed and wild as their captain's. Madame Hooch then released the Golden Snitch, which immediately zoomed away and disappeared. The referee then tucked the whistle between her lips, tossed the Quaffle into the air, and blew her whistle.

Iris immediately pushed her feet against the ground and shot up into the sky. Her eyes searched for the Ravenclaw Seeker, Terry Boot, before glancing around in search for the Golden Snitch.

She tuned out the other players, intent on finding the snitch as soon as possible. She zoomed around, dodged a few wayward Bludgers, and kept alert.

Her grey eyes briefly darted at the Ravenclaw stand, in search of a familiar, curly brown hair, but frowned in disappointment when her search grew futile. Hermes constantly told her he hated Quidditch, he hated _watching_ Quidditch, but still. It was perhaps her last Quidditch game for the rest of her life and this was important for her. It would have boosted her confidence a little to know that her secret boyfriend was at least watching from the sidelines.

"Boot caught sight of the Golden Snitch!" Ernie MacMillan announced. The Claws released a shriek of excitement and Iris forced herself to focus back to the game. "Malfoy is now zooming behind. _Merlin_ , look at those stunts they are pulling."

Iris tightly gripped her broom and flew faster. The cold, biting wind blew past her face and her eyes were already starting to water due to her speed, but she ignored it all. Boot was still zooming with amazing speed towards the snitch and she could not let him catch it.

"Chambers swung the Bludger towards Malfoy," MacMillan continued. "Great arm strength you got there, mate."

Iris belatedly heard MacMillan's announcement. The loud, whirring sound made by the Bludger grew louder and gasping in surprise, she maneuvered her broom to steer away from the assault of the heavy ball. At the same time, she lost her momentum and slammed against the Slytherin Quidditch stands. Her Housemates gasped in surprise and through a pained haze, she managed to see some of them were brought onto their feet.

"Malfoy hit the stands!" MacMillan gasped. "Blimey, that looks _painful_. Boot now lost sight of the snitch and is back to circling around."

Iris shook her head to clear the haze, relieved that her little accident momentarily distracted Boot.

"Get back to the game, Malfoy!" Fawley hollered from the far pitch.

She rolled her eyes at her overenthusiastic captain. A few of the Slytherin audience snickered, prompting her to glare at their direction. Iris' eyes then briefly swept at the audience to search for her best friends. Her eyes widened, though, upon seeing them cramped at the very back of the Slytherin stands... and there, sitting right at the very middle of Blaise and Theo, was a familiar curly-haired brunet. A Slytherin scarf was wrapped around his neck, almost obscuring half of his face. He was wearing a ridiculous thick-rimmed glasses, but the warm, honey-colored eyes behind them was _unmistakable._

Iris could not properly see Hermes' expression but his eyes were twinkling. He then proceeded to hide his face behind a Transfiguration textbook, his brown curls peeking from above.

" _I would have brought a book anyway and ignored the game all together."_

"GET YOUR HEAD IN THE GAME, MALFOY!" Theo suddenly hollered, his hands cupped around his mouth.

Iris snapped off from her momentary surprise and threw a glare at her best friend. The lanky Slytherin was grinning widely while Blaise rolled his eyes. Her eyes shifted briefly at her boyfriend, but Hermes still had his head behind that ridiculous book.

A disbelieving smile stretched wide on her pale face as she swiveled around and searched throughout the Quidditch pitch with newfound purpose.

It didn't take too long for her to spot the Golden Snitch again. All the ruckus around her disappeared as she zoomed towards the snitch with unimaginable speed. She wasn't even sure if Boot was tailing behind her, but she didn't care. All she could see was the snitch, and Hermes' warm eyes, and she just had to catch the snitch. _She had to_.

She outstretched her arm and tilted her broomstick. It was so _near_ , and she just had to reach out some more.

And then… and then the snitch was in her hand.

"MALFOY GETS THE SNITCH!" MacMillan boomed.

The whole pitch erupted into boisterous cheers and Iris' cheeks colored in wonderful exhilaration. Belatedly, she realized it was the Ravenclaw audience who were boisterously cheering. Fawley was screaming expletives at her general direction. Iris briefly blinked and glanced at the Golden Snitch in her hand in confusion.

She did catch it so it meant… Her eyes quickly shifted at the scoreboard and found out that Ravenclaw won, 200-170.

Iris groaned and zoomed down to the ground. "It isn't my fault the bloody Chasers are incompetent," Iris cried defensively when the whole Slytherin Quidditch team landed back on the Quidditch pitch. Identical glares were thrown her way, but Iris merely rolled her eyes. The adrenaline of catching the snitch still surged through every nerve in her body. Despite the raucous cheers from the Ravenclaw, despite their _loss_ , she still felt exuberant.

"Damn you, Malfoy!" Fawley snarled, swivelling around and stomping back to their locker room.

Iris grimaced, knowing it would be best if she stayed behind and let Fawley calm down. Her other teammates were already trudging gloomily back at their locker room whilst the Ravenclaw Quidditch team celebrated their victory.

"Good game, Malfoy."

She blinked and was surprised to see Terry Boot in front of her with an outstretched hand.

"We lost, Boot," she said with a light glare.

The Ravenclaw grinned and ran a hand through his hair. "You got the snitch," he said with a nonchalant shrug. "It's bittersweet for me."

Iris sighed and reluctantly grasped his hand for a handshake. Boot then bid his goodbye and joined his other teammates as they merrily went to their own locker room.

The Slytherin blonde sighed and gloomily approached Madame Hooch. "I'm returning the snitch, madame," she greeted, but the Quidditch referee merely gave her a smile.

"We have a tradition in Hogwarts for graduating Seekers to keep their last snitch, Miss Malfoy," she said with a twinkle in her eye. "It's yours."

Iris glanced at the snitch in her hand and smiled. She would definitely miss playing Seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch team. "Thank you," she said, pocketing the said ball inside her robes.

She walked back to where she left her broomstick and crouched down. At the same time, she heard multiple footsteps approaching her from behind.

"Well that was spectacular," Theo then greeted with a wide grin, sidling beside her to drape an arm over her shoulders. "It would have been better if we won, though."

"Don't bloody remind me," she grumbled under her breath. "Fawley now hates me."

"Fawley hates _everybody_ ," Blaise reassured as he placed a hand on top of her blonde hair. "It was still a wonderful game, Iris."

She sighed and grinned up at them. "It was, wasn't it?" she asked. "I'm going to miss Quidditch so much."

"We can still celebrate, right?" Theo offered, hopeful. "I manage to sneak some firewhiskey and food from Hogsmeade and they're hidden away in the Slytherin dormitories. What say you, princess?"

Iris frowned. "We have NEWTs in two days, Theo," she reminded, prompting him to roll his eyes. "I'm sure you're still not done studying so, _no_ , no drinking tonight."

"Merlin, Granger's rubbing off his swottiness to you," the lanky Slytherin whined, shooting a glare straight ahead. Iris followed his line of vision and had momentarily forgotten that the Gryffindor actually watched the Quidditch finals.

Hermes was standing a few meters away, an uncertain look on his face. Though, Iris wasn't entirely sure what he was feeling right now because half of his face was still hidden behind the Slytherin scarf wound around his neck.

"We'll be going first," Blaise then said, despite Theo's protest. He shot her a meaningful glance and dragged Theo away.

Soon, it was only her and Hermes standing in the Quidditch Pitch. The other students had long gone inside Hogwarts and Madame Hooch already collected the balls and left.

Sunset already painted the sky and the moon was already slowly making its ascent from the horizon. The wind had gone sharp and cold, but Iris found herself unable to move.

Hermes awkwardly tightened the scarf around his neck. "Sorry, I borrowed your scarf without permission," he said, voice slightly muffled by the said cloth. "I thought it would be best if I blended in the crowd if I were to watch your game."

"You came," she sputtered out, cheeks painting red at how his eyes gleamed under the darkening sky.

"Well, I figured this game meant so much to you," he said with a half-hearted shrug. "Granted, I didn't really watch the entire game. _Blimey_ , this book had been a page-turner." He waved the heavy Transfiguration textbook in the air with a teasing glint in his eyes. "But I did watch you catch the snitch, Iris. You were _brilliant_. I thought you'd topple off your broom because of that speed. Nott almost killed my arm because his grip was tight. I swear, I think even Zabini hadn't breathed for a minute there – "

"I love you."

" – but then, you finally caught the snitch and… _w_ _hat_?"

Iris blinked, eyes soon widening as she realized her slip. Panic instantly grew at the pit of her stomach and she tried her very hardest to come up with an excuse for her sudden slip. She wasn't supposed to say that! She wasn't supposed to blurt out her feelings for Granger, even when things were starting to fall into the right places. Because Iris Malfoy wasn't supposed to _love_ after everything she had done.

Hermes had no qualms telling her that he loved her all the time, and Iris still believed that she didn't deserve it. The Gryffindor, bless his bloody, compassionate heart, made it a point to prove to her that she deserved it, more than she ever knew, and Iris just couldn't _understand_.

A part of her still feared that his feelings were fleeting. A part of her still feared that one day, she'd wake up and realize that everything was just a _dream_ , too good to be true.

"Granger… it's not…"

Words left her as her terrified eyes slowly shifted to his face. Hermes still hadn't moved, too dumbfounded by her confession. His face was still ridiculously concealed by her Slytherin scarf and she wanted to desperately, _desperately_ see his face just to gauge his emotions.

Slowly, her eyes flickered to his honey-colored ones and she took sharp intake of breath. The warmth that seeped through, how his eyes wonderfully twinkled under the dark sky… He was beautiful and Iris…

Iris loved him very much.

She felt her eyes watering slightly at the magnitude of her emotions. What could she possibly offer to someone as amazing as him? She was broken in places, destroyed by her upbringing and the _war_ , and Iris didn't deserve someone as pure, someone as _bright_ and _warm_ like him.

She wasn't entirely sure if Granger knew the vastness of what he was offering to her in return. All the Malfoy riches, all the Pureblood prestige her family name brought her, all paled in comparison to the kindness and the love Hermes was willingly giving her.

"I love you," she finally decided, taking a deep breath.

Her feet painstakingly dragged her closer to him as Hermes' opened his arms, inviting. A loud laugh escaped from his lips when he effortlessly caught her as she threw her arms around his neck.

"I love you," she earnestly repeated for the third time, or a thousandth. She entirely sure; she had said it often in her mind she already lost count.

Her glistening eyes locked with his warm, honey-colored ones as he pulled her closer. She then gingerly unwrapped the scarf around his neck, all the while not breaking his intense gaze.

Once his face was exposed, the smile he gave her was wide and blinding.

Iris beamed in return, silently berating herself that she should have told him about how she truly felt if it brought out such a radiant look on his face.

He dipped his head and she met his lips midway.

She wanted to love him, to love him _so_ well it was suffocating and if it meant she had to work hard every day just to return even a smidge of what he was offering to her, then so be it.

 _So be it_.

* * *

"Maybe we should do it some other time, Granger."

He gave her a stern glance.

"There will be no next time, Iris, and you know it."

She softly sighed and begrudgingly admitted his words were true. Slumping, she nervously trudged behind the Gryffindor as he led her up through the different floors.

Iris silently berated herself for confessing one of her greatest fears ever since the war erupted – visiting the Astronomy Tower. Her fear of stepping foot in that room equated Hermes' irrational fear of flying. She didn't hesitate in skipping Astronomy class that year, knowing that she wouldn't be able to step foot into the said tower without breaking down.

Her berating persisted as she soon spied the Tower, mere meters away from them. She shouldn't have told Granger she wished to visit the Astronomy Tower before they graduated, just to make amends… to face her past. And perhaps, _perhaps_ start taking the precarious steps towards finally forgiving herself.

But Hermes was right; there was no next time. Today was their graduation, after all.

Iris briefly glanced at her black robe, void of the usual Slytherin greens and looked at Hermes' own attire, identical to hers without the Gryffindor reds. It was reminiscent of their very first year in Hogwarts, how they all clambered into the Great Hall, nervous beyond reason, bearing no House and no color. It was tradition in Hogwarts how the Headmistress would strip the graduating class off from their colors with just a wave of her wand until they bore black.

After all, in the real world, Houses didn't matter at all.

Her right hand started to shake. She halted in her steps just before the threshold, and it took Hermes a minute for him to realize that Iris hadn't crossed into the cobblestone floor of the Astronomy Tower.

He silently shot a glance at her shaking hand and clutched it in his own, worry in his eyes.

"Iris…" he started, but the blonde vigorously shook her head.

"Just give me…" She swallowed down her trepidation and took a deep breath. "Just give me a minute, Hermes."

He nodded his head and resolutely held her hand, waiting until she finally took that small step.

Iris took that time to slowly gaze around the Astronomy Tower. It was empty, save from the twittering birds perched on the bannisters. Ahead, the sun was already making its steady descent down the horizon, leaving a burst of warm yellows and oranges at its wake.

When Iris blinked again, she saw herself standing across Albus Dumbledore. There was terror on her face, unimaginable horrors snaking through every corners of her body as she shakily pointed her wand at the wizened Headmaster, the Killing Curse at the tip of her tongue.

" _Iris, years ago, I knew a girl who made all the wrong choices_ ," Dumbledore had told her then. _"Please, let me help you."_

" _I don't want your help! Don't you understand?"_ sixteen-year-old Iris angrily spat. Her face crumpled into a mourning mess when Dumbledore's eyes softened into unwanted pity. _"I have to do this_."

Iris stopped breathing when a flash of green light whizzed past her, hitting Dumbledore squarely on his chest, and prompting him to topple off the Astronomy Tower.

As she blinked again, Hermes' face swam into her vision. His face was blurry through her tears but she was able to see his concern with great clarity.

"Hey, hey," he whispered, holding both of her wet cheeks in his hands. "Maybe you were right. Maybe we should do it some other time."

She reached out to him and placed her face against his neck. "No, _you_ were right," she shakily replied. "There is no other time."

The blonde took a deep, shuddering breath as Hermes dropped a soft kiss on her forehead.

"All right," she said with determination. "Okay, let's to this."

She tightly gripped onto his hand as she took one step across the threshold. Hermes pulled her close so that he could wrap an arm around her waist and matched her pace. His patience with her was _infinite_ and Iris was embarrassed she had to heavily rely on him just step foot in this blasted place. But she knew there was no time for pride today. If it weren't for him, really, she wouldn't be here at all.

Amazingly, they reached the bannister. Iris placed her shaky hands on top of the stone railing and glanced around. Hogwarts was truly beautiful at this height. She remembered all the times she'd sneak out to the Astronomy Tower just to have some peace of mind, marveling at the beauty this school had to offer. She saw a herd of centaurs galloping wildly around, spears on their hands. Iris also spotted the Giant Squid, languidly doing strokes throughout the Black Lake.

"It's beautiful," she murmured, smiling slightly as she spied some of their schoolmates, numerous black dots swarming about, taking their last stroll in the Hogwarts grounds.

When Hermes didn't answer, she glanced at him in question. The brunet was a few inches behind her, eyes intently trained on the stone floor. His face was sickly green and his honey-colored eyes had terror in them.

"Come on," she cajoled with a small smirk, stretching out her hand. "I'm not the only one facing my fears today."

He frowned at her but laced his fingers through hers and deliberately took small, slow steps until he was standing beside her.

"Bloody hell," he murmured under his breath, balking at the height.

"I'm not going to make you fall, Granger," she teased, flinching a little when he tightly squeezed her hand.

"I can't help it," he mourned, shuffling a few steps back. "I always imagined myself toppling over and falling at this great height." His eyes widened in terror at her smile. "I'm not _kidding_ , Iris. It's terrifying."

She sighed and walked closer to him. "All right, all right," she said, snaking her arms around his trembling torso to at least relay some comfort. "We can leave now, if that's what you want."

In spite of his fear, he looked down at her with a frown. "Are you okay now?" he asked with the familiar worry in his eyes.

For a brief moment, her eyes landed on her left forearm. The vile tattoo was completely covered by her black robe, but even then, she could feel it taunting her, _mocking_ her of all the wrong choices she had done in the past. The urge to scratch it raw until it bled and bled and _bled_ was suffocating, but Hermes' grip on her tightened.

She shifted her eyes at him and saw the worry and the light and the warmth and it was enough to cease all her dark, tumultuous thoughts.

"No," she truthfully replied, burying her face against his neck. "But… _but_ it's a start. You don't see me breaking down now, Granger, do you?"

He weaved his hand through her hair. "You've been very brave," he whispered against her hair.

Iris smiled against his skin for her answer.

"We should really go," Hermes then said. "I promised your mother we will be back soon."

She pulled away and looked at him with glinting eyes. "Did she give you the 'talk' already?" she asked with a pretty smirk.

Hermes scowled. "I can't believe courting Pureblood witches is bloody _complicated_ ," he said with a sigh. "I'm not even a Pureblood so I don't understand why I have to adhere to such ridiculous rules."

"Are you chickening out?" she asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"What? _No_ , of course not!" he vehemently replied, looking very much affronted.

"Just… indulge my mother," Iris said with a sigh, the corner of her lips quirking at his disgruntlement. "She'd always dreamed of marrying me off to rich, Pureblood bastards so…" When Hermes rolled his eyes, she laughed. "Don't worry; I think your Hero status in the Wizarding World trumped any Sacred Twenty-Eight."

He sighed and muttered about snooty rich Purebloods and ridiculous blood statuses under his breath. Iris smiled and held onto him tighter, secretly thinking her mother wouldn't even care if Hermes failed all the tests she would give. Narcissa made it a point to tell her that whatever she decided from here onward, as long as she was _happy,_ then she would give her her full support. But then, _of course_ , she also knew that Hermes was determined to pass whatever Pureblood tests he needed to do just to be with her, because Hermes Granger would be damned if this was the first test he failed in his whole life.

"We should really go," Hermes repeated, pulling himself away from Iris.

"Wait," she said as she pulled out her wand from her pocket. "I have one last thing to do."

When Hermes looked at her questioningly, she merely smiled and walked back to the bannister. " _Irides_ ," she murmured. A bunch of purple irises appeared from the tip of her wand. Iris then placed the flowers on top of the bannister, and watched as one-by-one, the wind blew them away. Iris gazed as the purple irises freely danced with the wind, bringing with them her hopes and regrets until they disappeared from her sight.

Iris took a deep breath and smiled at the open.

Somehow, someway, a part of her finally felt free.

* * *

_Fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's a wrap! 
> 
> Thank you for all the kind comments, kudos, and bookmarks. Your persistent encouragement fuelled my desire to really give this genderbent couple some justice. I've grown really attached to both Hermes & Iris, and although I still have no further plot in mind for their story, I sincerely hope I can still write about them in the future. Or better yet, I hope I inspired you lot to start writing about genderbent Dramione. Writing about this trope changes dynamics you know - their characteristics, their weakness, etc - and it's mighty fun. You should really try it too! 
> 
> That's it for now! Thank you again for all the love and appreciation!


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